Need for Speed
by Skycat
Summary: Pietro is found in a position he hoped never to be found in. Language warning.
1. Questions

Need for Speed

By: Skycat

Everybody runs. It is a fact of life. What do we run from, and where do we run to? These are questions I seek to answer. Whom do we serve, because everyone is a servant to another, everyone has a master. Master and servant may be the same as master and slave, if the master wishes to treat it as such. However, we have the ability to choose whom we serve. I must be sure to choose my master wisely, or else his whim will be another's demise.

Will I run when I am needed? Where shall I go and what shall I do? How will I survive if I don't have a master? Will my master survive? Where will I find myself? These are the questions I seek to answer.

~~~~~~~

It was too bloody hot to leave the safe haven of air-conditioning. Stepping out of the building, the students hissed as they were enveloped in a sticky blanket of heat. Normally, the signal for the end of year was met with whoops and a thunder of feet as they pushed out of the school's double doors. Not this year, the heat discouraged the most rambunctious of teenagers, and his fur didn't exactly help matters.

Kurt groaned at he stepped outside, already feeling the prickling of sweat to soak his blue fur hidden by the holographic watch. Not only was it over a hundred degrees, but he had to do yard work that day! It was so unfair! The first day of summer should be spent in the pool, or just relaxing as they unwind from the year. Unfortunately, the students at the Xavier Institute had rules. Also, with only four adults and a mansion-full of teenagers, they all needed to pitch in and help with the chores. So, that meant that Kurt's carefree afternoon was going to be spent with the lawnmower.

"Hey, Kurt!" Kurt looked around to find Kitty Pryde waving at him to catch up. Kurt glanced around quickly, then teleported to her side in a burst of rancid-smelling smoke. "Hey, you should, like, be careful, you know? Even though normal people, like, know about us, we should still be, like, careful, right?" said the valley-girl. Kurt grinned impishly. "Vhat's the harm, Kitty? No-one saw, ja?" he asked, his German accent tilting his "w"s to sound like "v"s. Kitty giggled, pushing back some of the sweaty tendrils of brown hair that had escaped from her tie.

"Are you, like, coming to the pool with us?"

"Nein. I can't. I got to do the yard work." He sighed. They had started walked back to where they were to meet Scott and Jean, who were to drive them home. "How hot to you think it is?" Kurt asked finally. Kitty shrugged, not one for much small-talk that was not gossip or something important. The shorter girl moved to push back more sticky hair when something caught her eye. She turned her head to look and screamed.

"Vhat is it, Kitty?" Kurt's voice cut off suddenly as his gaze followed Kitty's. "Oh my god! Kitty, get Jean and Scott! Hurry!" he ordered. Kitty couldn't move. Kurt pushed her slightly and repeated the order. Kitty was only all too happy to obey, pumping her legs as fast as they could go to escape the scene that burned on the inside of her eyelids.

"Scott! Jean!" Kitty called ahead of her, straining her mind to reach the redheaded telepath.

"Kitty? What's wrong?" asked Scott, his hand inches from the handle to his car. Jean turned her head around in the passenger's seat to look questioningly at the heaving sophomore. Kitty shook her head widely, unable to put into words what she had seen.

"You have to come, like, now!" Scott and Jean looked at each other for a moment, then hurried to follow. The trip back seemed to take an eternity. The world had slowed down to a crawl and Kitty counted the cracks in the asphalt, as she was unable to push herself faster and her brain refused to focus on the object of her haste. Finally, she saw Kurt's holographic form waving at her to hurry. Scott passed her as he caught sight of him. He froze at the gap of the alleyway. Kitty stopped where she was, refusing to return to the haunting vision. Jean glanced at her, but hurried on.

Jean was panting slightly as she moved to stand next to Scott's frozen form. Her lagging breath was ripped away as she saw what had frightened them all. Lying in an unconscious heap against the wall was Pietro in a pool of his own blood.

TBC.....


	2. Running

Chapter Two

"Running"

Running.

Running so fast that my feet no longer touch the ground.

Flying, legs pumping, blood pounding to the percussion of my heartbeat.

Running to escape.

Running to find.

Running forever.

Never to stop, to falter,

For the world's reality will crush me if I fall.

So, I am running.

Running so fast that the world is blur.

Running to lose.

Running to explain.

Running forever.

Until the day I trip.

~~~~~~~~

To think that not ten minutes ago Kurt's biggest problem was chores. It certainly put his life into perspective. Pietro lay in a crumpled heap. His clothes torn and bloodied until they were nothing more than tatters. He was missing most of his right pant-leg, the skin inside looking like it had gone through a cheese-grater. _He must of tripped_, was the unspoken observation. Yet, there was no way that some of those wounds could come from a simple tumble, even one at his speed. 

Kurt stood outside the alley-way, unable to look at the gruesome sight any more. Jean was frantically trying to contact the Professor, while Scott was doing the best he could to clean up the white-haired speedster. Kitty sidled up next to him while he memorized the landscape beyond the buildings. "Hey, Kurt..." she began. Kurt shook his head, "I'm worried."

"About Pietro?"

"Vell, ja. I mean, vhat could have hurt him so bad vhen he is so fast?"

"Well, maybe he was, like, caught or something."

"That's vhat worries me." Before Kitty could ask him what he meant by that, Jean walked up to them. They looked at her, their faces drawn and tight. "The Professor said we should get him to the Institute right away. He didn't think it is a good idea to go to the hospital in case they recognize him as a Mutant."

"Okay. Um, how do we get him zhere? Isn't it bad to move him?"

"You can teleport him, right?" Jean asked. Kurt blinked.

"Is it safe?" Kitty looked at Scott as he joined them.

"We don't have a choice, do we? He's bleeding to death as we speak."

"He may be a member of the Brotherhood but he's still a person," Jean added. Kurt nodded and swallowed heavily. Transporting other people that far a distance was tricky enough. However, transporting an unconscious, injured person... "All right. Let's get this over with."

He crouched down next to Pietro, fighting back nausea. Pietro's normally pale face was gray and green. His white hair was stained and fell in clumps of dried blood about his forehead. Kurt reached out to touch him, only to flinch back at how cold and sticky his skin felt. Tiny fangs dug into his lower-lip as he replaced his hand on Pietro's shoulder. He could feel the bone easily, as if his skin was only a thin sheet of gauze stretched tight over the bone. "R-right." Kurt swallowed again and readied himself. Taking hold of his other shoulder Kurt closed his eyes and vanished in a burst of smoke. All that was left of the two was the large red stain on the ground.

"Let's get back quickly, the Professor might need us." Jean and Kitty nodded at this and they hurried back to Scott's car.

It took Kurt two tries to get Pietro to the Institute. Since he really didn't want to risk hurting his charge further Kurt kept the trip in short jumps. He had barely made it into the building before he was surrounded by the adults. They gasped at the mutilated sight. Even Logan winced slightly. Hank hurried a stretcher forward and whisked Pietro away to the medical hospice of the Institute.

As quickly as he had arrived, Kurt was left alone, still crouching from where he teleported just moments ago. "Everything will be okay, Kurt. We'll let you know as soon as he's stable." Professor Xavier had told him as he wheeled out the door. Logan had patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Good job, elf," was all had he said, before he had followed the in path the wheelchair had gone.

Now, Kurt allowed himself slip into a state of shock. Everything had happened so fast. Kurt wasn't sure he had it right. What in the world had just happened? One minute he was walking with Kitty, complaining about the heat, and the next he was sitting in the middle of the Institute, waiting to hear if a fellow mutant would live or die. It was easier to think of him like that. As a fellow mutant and not as Pietro. Not as the one who fought against them against every issue and betrayed his family not too long ago when he joined Magneto.

Pietro was always the cocky bastard. Then, as it was a habit when speaking in another language, Kurt thought about the meaning of his words. Was Pietro a bastard? Did he have parents somewhere? Now that he thought of it, did any of the Brotherhood? He couldn't recall anyone mentioning anything about the fact. It was strange, really. Surely they had them, and they needed a lot of things that humans did, like food, companionship, and the like. He had never really thought of that. It was just so much easier to think of them as the enemy, as inhuman. The thought made his chest ache slightly. How hypocritical of him! 

"Kurt!" Kurt jumped as someone shouted directly into his ear. Kitty was looking at him expectantly. Kurt blinked. "Kitty?" he asked. "How did you get here so fast?"

"Oh my god! I nearly died! Scott was driving like a manic! I, like, didn't know that a car could pull a wheelie! I was nearly sick!"

Kurt stared at her, then over her shoulder where Scott was barely listening as Jean berated him for reckless driving. Upon catching his eye, Scott left Jean in mid-sentance to join them. "Any news?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not yet, they just took him in a few minutes ago."

"I see."

They settled down to wait.

Time crawled on broken knees as they waited to hear from the Professor. Centuries passed and the world froze over. Ice finally shattered into reality when the door that lead to the hospice finally opened. The Professor wheeled in, his expression blank, giving no clue about what was going on in his head. The students stood. None of them knew why they stood, but their hearts had leapt up in their throats when the door opened and it only seemed natural to follow the movement. Xavier examined the small gathering. During the few hours that had passed the four had multiplied into the entire X team. A small part of him wondered how the young Daniels had responded when he had heard what had happened.

"Ah, thank you for being so patient," he said, his voice smooth and calm. 

"How is he?" Kurt asked, his demonic tail winding and unwinding itself around his leg.

"He's stable, for now, but we have no idea what happened, so we're not sure of to the extent of his injuries."

"Professor?" Scott asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"From the state he is in, we can gather that he had run quite a ways. There are hints that he may have passed through a forest of some type. Then, he twisted his ankle, or tripped, possibly, and skidded for quite a distance before that wall stopped him.

"From what I gather, I don't think that Pietro would be so clumsy. So, I believe that something must have happened to frighten him enough that he was more careless that usual. Whatever has frightened him that much may leave some psychological marks. So, until he wakes, we won't know the full extent of his injuries."

There was a slight pause as the group processed this. "How long is he going to be out?" Jean asked finally.

"A few hours, a few days. It really depends on Pietro."

"Are we going to, like, tell the Brotherhood?"

There it was. The question that was hovering in the back of all their minds. Most were glad that Kitty was the one to realize it. Were they going to tell the Brotherhood? Pietro was a member, more or less. His membership seemed to teeter from incident to incident. Whenever something important happened he would take off. During a several of the scuffs the two Mutant groups would get into Pietro would be suspiciously absent. No one seemed to notice if he was there or not anymore. If he was, then it just meant that they had to double team him and get him out of the way fast, or else he'd cause all sorts of quirky racket. The boy was extremely quirky. At times he was screamingly fruity, like when he and Spyke fought in the shopping section of the mall, and at other times he was a playboy, like when he had three dates for the school dance. He definitely had an ego. All in all, Pietro was just... Pietro. Was that a good or bad thing?

"I think we should wait until after Pietro wakes and can tell us what happened," the Professor said.

"...Can we see him?" Xavier looked up in mild surprise at the request. The boy ruffled his tuff of blond hair and scowled at the cuffs of his baggy pants. 

"I don't see why not. Keep it short though, Evan."

"Yeah, yeah." Evan walked out of the room without another word. They blinked after him in some surprise.

"I thought they were, like, arch-enemies, or something?"

"Well, they have known each other for most of their lives. I doubt they could have been enemies for all that time."

"Vhy do you say that, Scott?"

"Well, Evan told me something about what happened at his old school. That he and Pietro played basketball ever since Pietro showed up in his neighborhood. They were rivals, but it was more of a friendly-rivalry at that time."

"What happened?"

"Evan didn't say." 

Evan peeked around the door to the small medical room. A blue mass obscured his vision of the pale-haired boy as Hank moved back and forth around the slowly beeping machines. Hank turned at the sound of the door, and smiled slightly. "Mr. Daniels, I thought you'd be by."

"You did?"

"Mm hmm," Hank nodded. Evan sighed, then returned to more important matters. "How's he do'n?"

"Under the circumstances, decent. His respiration's steady. His heart rate is like a rabbit's and I'm not sure if that's normal for him or not."

"It is."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"Pietro told me once. He, um, had an attack or something a long time ago, and when I went to, you know, check his heart and breathing and stuff. Later, I asked Pietro about it and he said that's normal for him."

"I see." Evan walked around Hank to the other side of the bed and looked down at Pietro's still form. He had a breathing mask around his jaw, almost forcing breath into his lungs to keep oxygen moving. Tubes ran from his arm and wires connected to various spots all along his body.

"What's that thing on his thumb?" Hank followed his pointing finger. "Ah, that checks his pulse to see if blood is flowing through."

"Oh." Evan fell silent once again as he stared helplessly at the gaunt figure. When had Pietro gotten so thin? They could see the bones through his skin. All muscle seemed to have been eaten away. Dark circles surrounded his eyes making them seem sunken in. It made him seem so old. So fragile. So very un-Pietro. It was unnerving. Finally, Evan turned away, his spikes slid out as he fought down the anger coursing though him.

"Mr. Daniels?"

"What?" he growled.

"Why don't you go get some supper. Pietro needs to rest."

Normally, a gruff "whatever" would have greeted this, yet Evan couldn't seem to force the word out around his gritted teeth. Finally, he just growled and hurried away, leaving a groove in the doorway from where his spikes had hit.

TBC…. 


	3. My Name

Chapter Three

"My Name"

My name is Pietro Maximoff

My name is Quicksilver.

I am a good friend, dependable and loyal.

I am quick to please, quick to lose.

I know nothing and always depend on others to save me. I always forget to thank them.

I know all that goes on. No-one can catch me. I forget nothing.

My eyes are my heart. I look for what is in others the same that is in myself. I need the confidence that I am not alone.

My face is a mask. No one knows what I may be plotting next. I need no one and make sure that no one needs me.

I am...

I am...

* * *

Kurt was one of those enormously annoying people called "morning people," meaning that they are bright and chipper at 6 am when all the sane people should be still in bed. That also meant that Kurt had the television all to himself most mornings while he had a hearty breakfast of Cocoa Puffs in a mixing bowl. _Aah, this is the life_, he thought contentedly as he flopped down on the couch, careful not to spill the milk that was rapidly turning into a chocolate sludge. He aimed the remote towards the large, plasma TV and was just getting ready to begin his ritual morning cartoons, when Kitty stumbled in, yawning widely. Kurt blinked at her. "Kitty? Vhat's up? Why are you up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said, yawning again as she joined him on the couch.

"How come?" Kurt asked, stirring his cereal vigorously.

"Gawd, Kurt! How can you, like, eat all that sugar so early in the morning?" Kitty looked disgusted.

"Ah, c'mon, Kitty! It's good for you! You know what they say; 'While apples are healthy and such, sugar is consumed much!'"

"Who says that?"

"I do!"

"It's, like, really stupid."

"Oh. I'll work on it then!" Kurt grinned as he deposited a spoonful of the cereal into his mouth. Kitty looked sick.

"Soph, Hskom cm urkr ump sogh egrlfrly?"

"Eew! Don't talk with your mouth full. That's, like, sooo gross!"

Kurt swallowed hurriedly, "Sorry. So, how come you're up so early?"

"I dunno. I guess I'm, like, worried, or something. I thought Pietro would be awake by now, you know?" The mood of the room shifted into one of worried silence.

"It's only been a couple of days and the Professor said that it could be a few weeks."

"I know! But Pietro's always been, you know, Mr. Speedy. You'd think with his body he'd be up and running already, like, literally!"

"Ja," Kurt said, staring down at the swirling mass of sugar and milk in his bowl. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Kitty. It's not like him to just give up, right?" Kurt hesitated. He didn't even fool himself with that last comment. It was at this time that they realized how much they didn't know about Pietro. Yet, they never got the opportunity to learn, now did they? ...Did Evan?

Silence wrapped the room in a cocoon of silk, fragile, yet lasting. Until, that is, Kurt leapt off the couch, pumping his hands in the air. "Yeah! That's it! We're going out, Kitty!" Kitty blanched, did he know how that sounded?

"W-what?"

"We've been stuck in this house all summer. I say it's time to get out an on the town! Maybe 'scope some parties,' ja?"

Kitty giggled, "Kurt, I really don't think there are, like, any parties at 7 am."

"Ya never know until you try!"

"Kurt..." Kitty was still smiling at the blue demon-elf. "Fine, let's wait until later then. We can, like, go to the mall!"

Kurt groaned, "Aw, man!"

* * *

In fact, they didn't leave until after lunch. In that time, they managed to acquire Rogue and Jean as well. Scott, noticing that Kurt seemed uncomfortable surrounded by all girls, said he'd join them as soon as he'd finished with the yard work. So, the merry troupe went to Bayville Mall to "scope some parties, ja?"

Todd remembered taking a class, once, which was weird in and of itself. It wasn't has if he never went to class, he went to school quite often in fact, before the whole X-men thing showed up. This class, however, has risen up in his memory like an air pocket in a swamp. It popped a few months ago, when they'd been having another fight. Lance had been furious at them, reasons unsaid. Yet, they all knew what it really was. The Brotherhood had been unable to pay for the electric bill that month, and the city was going to shut down their electricity until they could. Lance was blaming him and Fred for watching too much TV, and Pietro for never turning off lights in rooms he wasn't using. They would have found it funny, with Lance harping like a landlady, if it really was. It wasn't. Especially when the foundation was giving occasional trembles in reaction to Lance's temper. It had been during this time that he had remembered. There had been a guest lecture in his 20th Century Literature class. They were getting ready to read another book and the school's drug councilor came in to talk about family roles. Todd wasn't sure when it happened, but he'd started taking notes, his interest piqued. He couldn't help but fit the roles into his own family.

There were four traditional roles, the Family Hero, the Scapegoat/Victim, the Lost Child, and the Mascot/Clown. Lance was definitely the Family hero, the care-giver of the group. Somewhat bossy and controlling, but tried to bring worth to the family. Todd wasn't so sure about the last bit, until he saw Lance working forty-hour weeks and as well as the normal school day. Todd was the scapegoat. He realized that easily, to his surprise. He was the one to usually get blamed for everything. His peer group was his family, well, duh, it really was. His was loyal and a good judge of character, or so he liked to think. And, Todd knew this to be absolutely true, he provided for a distraction from the real problems. It was kind of strange, when he thought about it, to think of Fred as the Lost Child, the one who tried to blend in, to be invisible. Yet, he was. Fred tried to make up for his size by trying to make himself as unnoticed as possible, by rarely speaking, or pretending to be dumber than he really was. Fred wasn't stupid, just a little dense. Also, unlike the others, Fred didn't trust people at all. In the rare occasions that he did, he got insanely jealous easily. Pietro was obviously the last. He was the one who would break the tension through humor, had a quick wit, and was very popular because of it. He had tons of friends in every group, yet he was always "on stage," always expected to perform and be the comedian. The lecture made him see his family in a different light and respect them more because of it. They seemed more like real people now, and not just the fronts they show the world.

Wanda wasn't family to Todd, because he saw her as a potential girlfriend. It would kind of ruin the mood to think of her as a sister. She was hot! With her black and red-dyed hair and the way she strutted about the world, seeming to say "this is my turf, so watch it or I'll reduce your insides to a boiling mass of acid." She was dangerous and that excited Todd. He knew she could barely stand him, but he was patient. One day, maybe she'd see Todd as Todd and not the Toad.

The fight had escalated to Lance yelling at Wanda for causing so many electric surges when she was unable to control her power. She ignored him, but he kept ranting (Lance was in a very bad mood that night) until unexpectedly, Pietro snapped, telling Lance to lay off his sister. There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the house exploded. Wanda's powers blew out the bulbs in the entire house, furious at Pietro. Pietro had fled. They hadn't seen him since.

At first, Wanda was furious at Pietro for running away yet again. But, as days turned to weeks and weeks to months, she slowly began to get worried. Not that she showed it, of course. Todd could tell. The way she'd frown a little more when his name was mentioned, giving no hint at anger, gave him a clue.

The house was quiet. It was as if a huge elephant was sitting in the middle of the living room, yet no one seemed to want to point it out. Pietro's absence was beginning to worry all of them. Lance seemed more upset than any of them, probably thinking it was his fault. Wanda acted normal, but looked out the window too often. For some odd reason, Todd had been cracking the jokes lately, trying to fill the void that Pietro left. They all tip-toed around now, somehow knowing they were walking on unsteady ground and a careless comment would send them all to their deaths.

"I'm going to the mall," Wanda stated suddenly, drawing Todd out of his thoughts and into the present. They had been sitting quietly in their crash-site of a living room, none of them having anything to do but contemplate. Then, Wanda stood up, saying that odd statement as if talking to a wall. They all stared at her. "What?!" she demanded after a moment.

"Nothing, sweetie-pie, it's just, ya don't seem the type a girl to go to the mall, yo," Todd said, smiling nervously. Wanda had been on edge for the last month, leaving them all rather edgy.

"Tch. Whatever type of girl I am or not is none of your business, Toad."

Todd waved his hands innocently before Wanda's glare. "Right, right. Sorry, yo. How come? We ain't got no money ta spend."

"I'm not going shopping. I'm going to look for Pietro."

That caught all their attention. "What?" Lance sat up from his window-seat, frowning at her.

"Pietro's almost always at the mall. So, I'm going to find him and... kill him."

"Wanda..." Lance stopped. Then, began carefully. "If you find him, don't make him run off again." He turned and left the room.

"Alright, Wanda-honey!"

"Don't call me that!"

"I'll go with you! Two heads are better than one, yo!"

"No!"

"C'mon! Let's get goin'!" Todd began to pull her out of the house, laughing easily.

"TOAD!"

* * *

Kurt sighed and mussed his hair. He began straightening it out again, only to mess it up again in his boredom. The girls were in the dressing rooms with half the store between them. That meant he had a while to wait. Boring. They had been there for an hour already and Kurt was already bored out of his furry mind. Why couldn't they go to the arcade or the game shop, or something fun? But, no, the girls had to drag him to The Gap and make him sit while they discussed clothes. Even Rogue was enjoying herself! She had found a section of dark clothing that suited her taste and left Kurt alone. Where was Scott when he needed him?! _Well_, he thought trying to look on the bright side_, at least they hadn't decided to start dressing me up, yet_. Adding the "yet" didn't make him feel any better.

Movement caught his eye, and Kurt looked around to find... Wanda?! standing in the center of the mall. Kurt stared. What was she doing here? It didn't look like she was shopping. A flash of green alerted him to the Toad hopping from store front to store front. They weren't trying to steal anything, were they? No, it looked more like they were searching for something. Before he realized what he was doing, Kurt found himself walking up to Wanda. By the time he found himself heading towards her, she spotted him. Not wanting to back-out now, Kurt took a deep breath and stepped up to her. "Wanda? Haa, whatcha doing here?" he asked, running a nervous hand along the back of his head. Wanda glared at him, before turning her burning gaze to scorch all within reach. "I'm looking for that idiot Pietro, if you must know," she said finally.

"Pietro?! H-how come?"

"That's none of your business, Fuzz-ball."

That stung. "Fuzz-ball?! Tch, I am not a fuzz-ball! I am the Furry One!"

Wanda looked at him as if he were insane.

"Pietro's been missin' for about three months, yo."

"TOAD!"

"Whaat? It's not like he's gonna leave us alone until we tell, yo!" Toad said defensively.

Kurt stared. "Three months?"

"What's it to ya?" Toad glared at him, grinning oddly. Kurt laughed, wondering if he should say anything.

"N-no reason."

Wanda looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "You haven't seen him, have you?"

"M-me? No, of course not! Hahaa..." Kurt cursed himself at his terrible lying.

"Hm." Wanda continued to watch him.

Kurt nodded jerkily. "Right! Okay! Good luck. I'll see you around, ja?" he said, moving away quickly. They let him go, staring after him as if he were an idiot.

When he was finally out of their sight, he slapped of hand over his eyes and groaned. "Good going, Kurt," he murmured to himself.

"What did you do, now?" asked a curious voice behind him. It was Scott, smiling in his mildly amused expression. Kurt brightened up. "Hey! Thank God you came! I've been so bored! The girls found a clothing store and remembered that they still had Christmas money..." he let the end of the sentence hang in horror. Scott laughed.

"I also saw Wanda and Toad..." Kurt continued, dropping his voice slightly. Scott frowned behind his shades.

"What happened?"

"They were looking for Pietro... says he's been missing for the last three months."

Scott's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You didn't tell them, did you?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, I wasn't sure that'd be a good idea right now."

"Yeah. I think we should talk to the Professor and see what he thinks."

Kurt suddenly looked hopeful. "You mean, we can go?!"

"Sure, why not? The girls have money for a cab, right?" Scott said, laughing. Kurt cheered.

They arrived back at the Manor about twenty minutes later to find the younger students playing dodgeball without their powers. Well, supposedly without their powers. The game quickly turned violent and the two X-men hurried indoors for protection as fire and rubble rained down. Logan watched them hurry past as he snared an apple with his metal claws.

"Professor?!" Scott called, unsure of where to look for the bald man. _I'm in the medical room,_ came the mental reply. A quick nod showed that Kurt heard him too, and they headed for the elevator. They found Xavier a few minutes later talking with Hank outside the medical room's door. As they approached, Xavier nodded gravely and turned to face them. "Ah, Scott, Kurt. What's wrong?"

"We saw the brotherhood at the mall looking for Pietro!" Kurt blurted out.

Xavier looked startled. "You did?"

"They said he'd been missing for three months, Professor," Scott added calmly. Xavier was silent for a moment, considering. Kurt's eyes flickered from him to the door behind which Pietro was still unconscious. "How's he doing?"

Xavier shot him a look, hesitating. "Poorly," he said finally. "Apparently, his heartbeat and respiration have dropped considerably in the last twenty-four hours."

Kurt's heart dropped.

"Is he going to die?" Scott asked.

"I don't know." Xavier seemed to be considering something, then nodded to himself. "Yes, I think we should. Kurt, I want you and Jean to pay a visit to the Brotherhood this evening."

Their eyes' bugged, "_What?!_"

"I believe it would be a good idea to inform them of Pietro's condition."

"A-are you sure, Professor X?" Scott said, stunned. Xavier thought about it and nodded. "I would suggest telling Wanda first, as she is his sister."

"SHE IS?!"

"Excuse me, but could you keep it quieter?" Hank asked, nodding towards the door. They looked embarrassed.

Xavier nodded to Kurt's shocked question. "They're twins, actually, but not on very good terms. I would be careful, if I were you."

"Of course."

"Why Jean?" Scott asked, seeming rather hurt that he was being left out.

Xavier smiled, "They don't really see you as a very nice person, Scott. If you were to show up, then they might feel threatened and attack. We don't want that."

"No, you're right," Scott agreed reluctantly.

"Good! Now, where are the girls? They went with you, didn't they?"

Kurt and Scott shot each other panicked looks.

* * *

That evening, Jean and Kurt stood in front of the Brotherhood's door, staring up and the two-story house. It looked like it was one of those abandoned, haunted houses, with it's cracked frame and tattered roof. In fact, it looked like it was one timber away from collapse. Jean took a deep breath and knocked, trying not to wince as cobwebs and mortar rained down at the sudden vibration. There was silence from indoors for a moment. The door wrenched open, revealing Lance wearing a scowl fit to send tax-collectors onto a seizure. Jean took a step back then smiled innocently. Lance's scowl turned, if possible, even fiercer at the sight of them. "What the hell do _you_ want?!"

Jean, ignoring the rude tone, said calmly, "We would like to speak with Wanda, please." The door shut in her face. They heard Lance's bellow of "Wanda! Get your ass to the door!" through the wood, as well as Wanda's answering, "Whoever it is, tell them to screw off!" The door opened to a smirking Lance who said, "Screw. Off," before slamming it closed again.

Kurt coughed, trying not to laugh at Jean's affronted expression. "Well!" she huffed, and knocked firmly on the door again. This time, the door opened to reveal Toad, who was chewing on a stick of beef-jerky. His eyes widened at the sight of them and let out a small squeak, slamming the door shut in their faces. Jean scowled and Kurt began to choke in his effort not to laugh. She knocked again and quickly wedged her foot into the space provided when the door opened for the fourth time. It was Wanda. She gave them such a look that they were afraid that their hair would spontaneously combust under the heat of her stare.

"_WHAT_?" she hissed.

"It's about Pietro," Jean said hurriedly. All sound indoors ceased. The door opened wider to reveal the whole Brotherhood, staring at them. Jean took a deep breath. "We know where he is."

A mouse could be heard scuttling across the living room in the silence that followed.

"Wanda, he's at the Institute."

"_WHAT_?!" shrieked the Brotherhood. Jean winced and Kurt stepped forward hurredly. "Let us explain! You see, on the last day of school, Kitty and I found him in an alley..." he paused, unsure how to put it.

"He was bleeding to death," Jean said. The silence was tense, the air almost crackling with the withheld questions.

"I-is he okay?" Toad asked softly.

Jean shook her head. "We've got him under intensive care at the Institute, but he won't wake up. The Professor-"

"Screw your fucking _Professor_! Why didn't you tell us sooner!?" Lance hissed, the ground trembling.

Jean shot him an uncompassionate look, "We don't know what happened to him." The silent accusation hung in the air.

"How _dare_ you," Wanda whispered, objects not nailed down levitating behind her. "How dare you accuse us of such a thing! I'm surprised you didn't leave him there to rot!"

"We aren't cruel!"

"But _we_ are, is _that_ it!?"

"I didn't say that!"

"YOU FUCKING IMPLIED IT!"

"LISTEN!" Kurt shouted to be heard over the sound of the lightening crackling around Wanda. "Pietro's in critical condition! He could _die_ tonight if his breathing keeps dropping! I really don't think this is the time to fight!" Realizing he had the floor, Kurt sighed. "Vanda, you and the others are invited to visit him, as long as you think you can not fight with us there. C'mon, Jean." He turned and walked down the path back to the car in which Scott was waiting. Jean followed him calmly, as if nothing had happened, while the Brotherhood watched them leave in stunned silence.

TBC...!


	4. Defining Me

Chapter Four 

"Defining Me"

Who am I? I am myself, no more, no less.  I am lost and I am found.  I am not a fabrication of your imagination.  I am standing before you, sitting beside you, listening to your words, watching your expression; reading, gauging, trying to reach some understanding of why you are the way you are.  I see all and know nothing.  I am forever searching for a meaning to why we are here.  I try to understand you, because then I may begin to understand myself.

They told me that they trusted me.  Yet, how can people trust me when I am the way that I am?  I can't see my heart to understand what it wants.  How can I tell when I am living in this gray world of blandness?  This place where the only thing that exists is neutrality.  Neutral and forced.  A world of simplicity and contradictions.  A place where I hide, am trapped, drowning forever.  I am falling backwards.  I cannot see where I am.  Faces are blurred into shadows.

Who am I?

I am myself.

No more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            It was about nine the next morning when the Brotherhood arrived at the Institute.  They were in the middle of breakfast when Xavier looked up from his place at the head of the table.  "Ah.  It looks like they're here," he said, his eyes crinkled up in a smile.  "Logan, why don't you go welcome our guests."

            Logan scowled, deftly grabbing Kurt as he tried to snag the plate of sausages from across the table.  "C'mon, Elf.  You're com'n too."

            "Aww.  How come?" Kurt whined, trying to stuff a sausage in his mouth.  Logan snatched it just as Kurt bit down.  "Drop it, Elf," Logan growled.  Kurt grinned around his mouthful, and bit down, releasing half the sausage as he chewed happily.  Logan rolled his eyes and ate the other half as he stood, dragging the blue demon-elf out of the room.  The table chuckled at them as they watched Kurt disappear around the corner, complaining happily.

            "How come I have to, Logan?"

            "Two reasons.  One, if I left you alone, I'm sure there wouldn't be anything food left by the time I got back." Kurt protested, but Logan ignored him. "Second, they listened to you, not Jean, yesterday.  So, you're coming, no argument, Elf."

            "Ja, ja," Kurt sighed.  Rubbing his collar from where Logan had gripped his shirt he followed as meekly as he could.  Logan sighed as he watched Kurt prance around with boundless energy. They reached the door the same time as the Brotherhood walked up to the glass screen doors.  Before they could knock, Logan wrenched the double doors open and glared.  He was met by a look almost identical to his own.  Lance scowled right back, his arms crossed in silent challenge.

            "Uh, hey!  You guys made it!" Kurt said, a little nervously.  Lance turned his look on Kurt, who grinned goofily before looking at the others.  The Toad and the Blob seemed to be hiding, somewhat unsuccessfully in the Blob's case, behind Lance, but still managed to look defiant under the intimidating shadow of their enemy's home.  "Hey, vhere's Vanda?"

            "She'll come later," Lance answered shortly.  In fact, Wanda had to work until three and couldn't get off on such short notice.  They continued to look at each other for several minutes before Logan growled at them to "get in or leave."  They entered rather awkwardly, unused to such luxury that the X-men seemed to take for granted.  Even the Blob looked surprisingly small in the size of the main entrance.  Toad looked like one of those flies he flicked his tongue at periodically.  He was hopping nervously from Blob to Lance, unable to sit still and barely able to keep from babbling in his nerves.  If Lance was uncomfortable, he didn't show it.  He sneered in disgust at the frivolities they indulged in while his family was left to starve.  Finally, he turned away from the hideous tiny statues that the girls had purchased for fun (bears reading, owls perched, mice playing games, and other such dust-gatherers) to the business at hand.  "Where's Pietro?"

            "Ah, Mr. Alvers.  I'm glad you and your friends could make it."  The trio stiffened at the sound of the Professor's voice.  Turning slightly, they saw him smiling benignly from the doorway to the dining room.  Lance's scowl deepened.  He knew that Xavier could most likely see his thoughts and he didn't put it past him to listen in without permission.  Thus, he thought, in no uncertain terms, some very creative curses.  Xavier didn't even flinch.  "How about we go straight to business.  Follow me, please," Xavier said, pressing a button in his armchair to wheel forward.  Todd and Fred glanced at Lance, who kept his gaze at the bald spot on the back of Xavier's head.  He nodded slowly and followed, the others falling in behind automatically.

            They were silent as they passed under the bright lights leading to the elevator.  Lance began to get unnerved by Baldy's silence.  When they reached the metal door of the elevator he opened his mouth to speak when Todd broke in.  "Damn, yo, not very subtle, are you?"

            Xavier turned his chair and blinked at the Toad, who was examining the large X carved into the elevator doors.  "Pardon?"

            "I mean, it's almost like you're advertising, yo."

            Lance felt just as confused as Fred usually was.  It didn't help his temper.  "What the hell are you on about, Todd?"

            "The 'X,' yo.  Ya know, the X-geeks.  I mean, it's like they're screaming that we gotta enter here to get to their base, yo."

            Lance closed his eyes and whacked Todd on the head.  "It's an elevator, you moron."

            "Ow!  Jeez, so what, yo?"

            A low rumble from behind them indicated that Fred was about to speak.  They waited while the large boy gathered his words together.  "The gates had a X onnem."

            Lance waited, but apparently that was all he was going to say.  "So?"  

            Todd grinned, revealing his straight, green teeth.  "That's right!  Like I said, it's like they're advertising that the X-men live here, yo."

            "Tch, whatever." Lance turned away to find the Professor watching them with interest.  "What?"

            "Nothing.  Why don't we go and I'll explain the situation."  Xavier pressed a button and the doors dinged open.  They piled in, tensing as Blob squeezed in.  The elevator held.  Lance was surprised at this.  It must be pretty strong to hold all of them.  It was pretty cramped, but no one even thought of splitting up.  Not in the Institute.  As their stomach dropped with the movement of the elevator, Xavier began to speak.

            "Let me start at the beginning.  Four days ago, Kurt and Kitty were walking back from school when something caught their eye.  Obviously, it was Pietro.  He was torn up and bleeding heavily.  Not knowing what to do, they brought him here.  I decided that it wasn't safe to take a Mutant to a hospital.  It would cause too many complications.  So, Hank and myself have been taking care of him."

            "In other words, Pietro wasn't worth revealing yourselves," Lance translated with  a growl.  Xavier shook his head.  "No.  It wasn't safe for Pietro.  We couldn't be sure that they would take good care of him like any normal person."

            _What's this?  The ever-optimistic good-guys realizing that people are a heartless bunch?_ Lance thought.

            "Pietro's condition is not good.  He has several broken ribs and a sprained ankle.  He has suffered from extreme blood-loss and lack of nourishment.  He has dozens of scrapes, cuts, and bruises all over his body, and a large bump on his right temple.  I hope I don't need to tell you how serious that could be..." he glanced up at Lance.  Todd muttered that he did.  Lance sighed and ran a hand through his unwashed hair, their water having been cut off for the month.  "It means, Todd," he said, his voice deceptively calm.  "That Pietro could have brain-damage.  Anything from a severe head-ache to amnesia."  He couldn't bring himself to describe anything worse, but temple injuries were some of the most dangerous injuries one could have.  They could even result in death if hit in the right spot.

            "And that's not the extent of his injuries.  However, I think it would be best if you saw him yourself."

            "The Fuzz-ball said that he's dying," Lance said bluntly.  Xavier shot him a look, but Lance's face was blank.

            "Yes.  If his respiration continues to drop, then he will not survive.  His heart-rate is irregular.  It varies from beating at 189 beats per minute, to under twenty.  Neither which are very good, even for someone with his mutation."

            "Hmm."  Xavier hid a grin at Lance.  Even through the seriousness of the matter, the boy seemed as though he was solving a particular troublesome problem.  One that he was determined to fix.  Perhaps it was a mistake to leave them out of this for so long.  Xavier hadn't really thought that the Brotherhood would harm one of their own, but he could never be sure.  Not with Pietro's father being who he was.

            The elevator dinged and opened.  The hallway was bare and almost seemed plain compared to the Manor above.  They shuffled out behind Xavier's wheelchair, glancing around, almost as if expecting the walls to start moving.

            "Through here."  Xavier motioned towards a half-open door at the end of the hallway.  Lance nodded and stepped forward with Todd and Fred close behind.

            Wanda scowled at the man in front of her as if daring him to say something.  He trembled under her gaze but met here eyes squarely, challengingly.  Wanda smirked.  The human was brave, but she would triumph in the end.  "So," she drawled, her hand hovering threateningly. "You'll have fries with that."

            The man sighed in defeat.  "Yeah...sure."

            Nodding in satisfaction, she punched in the order.  "That'll be $32.50."

            The man groaned.

            Pietro looked better than Lance expected.  However, that didn't mean he looked good.  His pallor was nearly translucent and he seemed to be struggling for breath.  A large bandage wrapped around his head and left eye.  A large, breathing mask was strapped onto his chin and nose, forcing oxygen to keep moving.  Other than the pathetic motions of his sunken chest rise and fall, he was deathly still.  Todd gasped as he caught sight of their house-mate.  "Holy shit!  What the hell happened to him?!"  He was so shaken that his trademark "yo" was missing.  Xavier came in last, moving to the other side of bed so he could watch the Brotherhood and Pietro at the same time.

            "I was hoping you could tell us."

            Todd shook his head wildly.  Fred was still as stone, staring at Pietro, waiting for him to jump up and announce it was all a joke.  Lance bit the inside of his lip, trying to keep his cool in front of the mastermind behind the X-geeks.  "Lance?"  Xavier's voice cut into him.  The simple voice sliced through his control cruelly, and the room trembled faintly.

            "Hey, Lance!  Cool it, yo!  Don't forget we're underground!"

            "Yes.  Please try and control yourself here, Mr. Alvers," Xavier said disapprovingly.  The room shook a little more, but Lance managed to rein in his temper.  Taking a shaky breath, he ran a hand through his hair, as he always did when nervous.  

            "Perhaps you ought to start at the beginning," Xavier suggested.  Todd glanced at Lance, unsure if Lance could speak without shaking the foundation.  Lance nodded at him and Todd shrugged.  "There was kinda a fight that night," Todd began uncomfortably.  They weren't used to baring themselves to the rich, adults, and no to mention their long-timed enemies.

            "What kind of fight?"

            "None of your business," Lance snapped.

Todd shrugged at the Professor.  "'Tsa yelling fight, yo.  And, you know, stuff was said and Wanda got angry.  Pietro left.  He does that a lot, so we didn't really think much on it, yo.  But it's been three months since and he never even dropped by or nothin.'  He'd usually zip though for a second to piss us all off if he was still upset and leave again.  But we never saw him 'till now, yo."

            "So you don't know what happened to him either.  No idea?"

            Fred mumbled something, catching their attention, before saying softly, "It mightda been Maggie."

            "Maggie's no where near that cruel unless Speedy's done something... But he wouldn't've done nothing, yo!"

            "Mag's been rather touchy lately though," Lance put in, his voice thoughtful.

            "'Maggie?'" Xavier asked.  Lance glared at him for interrupting them.  "Magneto," he answered shortly.  Xavier couldn't hide a snort of laughter.  Lance scowled and turned back to Fred and Todd.  "What about Her?"

            Todd blanched.  "B-but, She's been missing for ages!"

            "Wha'd She want with 'Tro?" Fred rumbled.

            "She'd want revenge."

            "Against Maggie, not Pietro, yo!"

            "Can't get the lion, go for the cub," Lance sneered.

            "But...why not Wanda, yo?!  Well, not that I'd want someone after Wanda or nothin,' it's just..."

            Lance snorted.  "Would _you_ try and attack Wanda?"

            "Ah, no.  Alright, yo.  So, let's say it was Her.  What then?  She don't seem like she'd do this sorta thing, yo."

            "No," Lance agreed.  Xavier watched them with interest.  He had a pretty good idea who 'Her' was, but Mistique never seem the type for extensive torture.

            "Maybe she was working with someone..." Lance suggested.

            "Who?" Todd challenged.

            "How the hell should I know?!  I'm just guessing!  I have no idea what happened!"

            "Fine, whatever, yo."

            "....How'd they catch him?" Fred asked suddenly.

            "Probably backed him into a corner.  Though, he's not really easy to do that with."

            "A net."

            "A net?"

            Todd shrugged.  "Or something to trip him up with, yo.  Once he's down they could inject him with knock-out drugs or something."

            "Actually." They jumped at the new, amused voice by the door.  Hank stood holding a clipboard and watching them with a mix of amusement and seriousness.  "There are several knots on his arm that indicate that he had been injected several times.  I cannot find any chemicals in his bloodstream though.  He probably bled them out."

            "Is that a good or bad thing, yo?"

            Hank shrugged.  "Small blessings in disguise are sometimes the most special."

            Lance sniffed.  "What, like getting sick and being able to stay home?"

            "Something like that," Hank smiled.

            "But you're still sick."

            "But the glass is half-full."

            "The hell?!"

            "Hank means that in every situation that there is a good piece there if you look for it.  The glass is half-full, not half-empty," Xavier explained.

            "So, if Pietro dies, what's the good bit?" Lance shot at them.

Hank raised a furry eyebrow.  "What if Pietro lives?"

"What?"

"Stop thinking as though he's going to die.  Start thinking that he's going to live.  It'll be good for all of you."

"That could be called going into denial," Lance mumbled.  Hank opened his mouth to reply but Todd cut him off.  "Oh just shut up!  It don't matter, yo!  What are we gonna do?!"  The room's occupants, minus the unconscious, stared at him in surprise.  Todd took a deep breath and glanced down at the body on the bed.  Xavier took pity on the boy, stepping in then, "Okay.  I believe that's enough for now.  Why don't you three take turns to sit in with him, and Wanda as soon as she comes.  People seem to improve faster and miracles happen when surrounded by those who care."

"So Pietro is in need of a miracle," Lance deadpanned.

"I didn't mean it like that.  Who wishes to stay first?" Xavier looked from boy to boy, expecting one to step forward.  Todd and Fred glanced at Pietro one last time and silently left the room.  Xavier raised his eyebrows slightly.  These boys were a lot closer than he'd realized, he found.  They each had a place and knew what the others needed from him.  They could be a very formidable team under the right motivation.  The X-men would need to be careful and not push them too far.  He didn't want to see any of his students in place of Pietro.  Xavier nodded at Hank and they headed to the door.  "We'll give you a few minutes alone, then Hank needs to change the bandages and run some tests.  You can help with that," he told the unresponsive brunette.

As soon as the door shut, Lance sank to his knees and buried his head in his hands.  "Dammit, 'Tro!" he growled.  His voice was dull, empty.  "Why did you say that?  You know how Wanda gets."  He hesitated, his voice taking a manic edge as he continued.  "You know I didn't mean anything, right?!  ...dammit... It's my fault, I know.  I should of looked for you sooner.  I shouldn't have lost my temper again!  God!" His breathing hitched as he struggled to remain in control.  Tears hovered in his burning eyes, never to fall, only to haunt him with their existence.  "I don't care anymore, 'Tro.  Just, you'd better wake up.  If you don't, I'll... I'll... I'll send Wanda after you!  Just wake up!  Please..."

Kurt was watching television upside-down from his perch on the chandelier.  When Kitty had asked him why he was up there he had said that there had to be some way to make the reruns more interesting.  Yet, if anything, it was just something to do.  The atmosphere in the Institute was tense.  Everyone knew that beneath their very feet that the Brotherhood were traipsing around.  It made them uncomfortable.  At one point they had felt the foundation shake and they all froze.  It shook a second time before ceasing completely.  No one had moved for a good five minutes after.  Kurt knew it was only a matter of time before Wanda arrived, then, who knew what would happen.  At least with those three they knew where they stood.  After what seemed an eternity, Kurt heard the distinctive footsteps of the Blob. Releasing his hold on the chandelier, Kurt landed easily and peeked out the door.  The two boys were ashen and speaking in soft voices.  Well, Toad was speaking and Fred had his forehead furrowed in an effort to keep up.  Every once in a while, he would mumble something in return, but what they were speaking about Kurt had no idea.

            _Kurt_, the Professor's psychic voice startled Kurt slightly and he jumped.  "Uh, ja?" He asked softly.  _The boys will be staying a while.  Why don't you keep them entertained for a time.  I'll contact you when Lance is finished._

            "Uh, sure."  Finished?  Finished what?  And entertain them how?!  Realizing that they were about to pass by, Kurt jumped out in front of them.  They stopped, looking at him suspiciously.  Kurt rubbed a hand to the back of his head.  "Uh, hey, guys.  Um, what's up_?" Gah, stupid question, Kurt! he chastised himself.  Toad eyed him with obvious misgivings._

            "Well, we just found out that one of our family members is very likely to die and there is nothing we can do but wait and see.  What's up with you, yo?"

            Kurt flinched.  "Yeah, uh, sorry.  Wanna do something to pass the time?"

            "Like what, yo?"

            "...um.  You like video games?"

            "..Whaddya got, yo?"

            "Lotsa stuff.." Kurt ran through a quick list of some of the games they owned.  Toad and Blob's eyes bulged.  "You've got the new Twisted Metal?!"

            "Um, yeah.  For a while, actually.  You want to play?"

            "Hell yeah!" Toad grinned while Blob nodded beside him.  Kurt smirked,  "I warn you.  I'm the master of Twisted Metal."

            "You just wait, yo!  There ain't no one that can beat the Toad at video games!"

            "'Cept 'Tro," Blob said sadly.  Toad stumbled, his face suddenly serious.

            "Yeah..." he sighed.  "But that's only cuz his reflexes are incredible, yo.  He never had the patience though.  Always said that the damn controls are too slow, yo."  He grinned nostalgically.  "Do you remember when he was so bored that he painted Lance's room baby pink?" he laughed and Fred grinned.

Kurt snorted.  "He didn't!"

"He did, yo!  Lance didn't notice for a week, though.  Cuz he always comes home so late, yo.  But, boy was he pissed, yo!  He nearly knocked the house down.  Pietro thought it was the funniest thing.  He always had...has.. a twisted sense of humor, yo."  

Fred grinned.  "I remember when he caught you peeking in on Wanda in the shower."

            Todd went pale.  "Oh right."  Kurt gaped, "No way!  You peeked on Wanda?!  Did he tell her?"

            "Naw.  'Tro's cool like that, yo.  Besides," he suppressed a shudder, "he said he didn't want to have to share the pleasure of torturing me."

            "What he do?" Kurt asked.

            "Oh, varying degrees of pranks.  Pietro's forte, yo."

            "He pulled pranks on you?"

            "No.  He made me do them, yo.  I believe one of them was putting bleach in a red-head's shampoo bottle during gym, yo."

            "Oh god! I remember that!  That was you guys?!"  Kurt snorted into his hand.  "Aw, man, Jean was so pissed!"

            "Uh, yeah.  Don't tell her, yo. I kinda wanna keep my neck."

            "Don't worry.  Your secret's safe," Kurt said, giggling uncontrollably.

            Todd eyed him carefully as Kurt laughed.  He didn't trust the blue boy, but...

            "Come on!  Let's go play.  I can't wait to whoop you," Kurt said, waving them into the living room.

            "Ha!  Brag while you still can, Fuzz-ball!  I- Shit!" Kurt whirled to stare at Todd, who's eyes were wide.  "Vhat is it? Vhat's wrong?" Kurt asked.

            "Holy shit!  Is that a Plasma!?" Kurt followed Todd's pointing finger to the TV.

            "Oh, that.  Ja.  It was a Christmas present to all of us from the Professor."

            "Goddamn!"

            Kurt shrugged.  Sure, it was a nice television, but it still had some bugs.  It wasn't that big of deal, was it?  Then he remembered their house.  Perhaps such expensive things were a big deal to them.

            "Whaddya waiting for, Fuzz-ball!  You not gonna chickening out on me, yo!"

            Kurt laughed and waved a digit tauntingly.  "I am furry not feathered!  I'm not going to back out when I know I'm going to win!"

            "Put your money where your mouth is, yo!"

            "A bet?"

            Todd hesitated.  He meant it just a phrase, but... they could use some extra cash.  If he lost it, then Lance would be pissed... But if he won...  "Ten dollars!" he decided.  Not a large sum, but all they could possibly spare.  Kurt nodded in agreement and they shook on it.  "Fred, you're our witness, yo!"

            "Always," Fred rumbled.  Todd grinned crookedly.  "Let's play!"

            Since Todd was busy with Kurt, Fred went to visit Pietro next.  Lance lounged on the couch and watched with detached interest at the furious battle on the ridiculously expensive television.  Todd starting yelling, "Nononononono!" as his fingers flew on the controls.  They had gathered quite the crowd by this time.  It had been a while since Kurt had had some new competition, and Toad turned out to be very good.  Lunch had been a distracted affair, eating in a half-hazard manner while the combatants' eyes never left the screen.  Lance, at least, had eaten his fill, and saved some for Todd for when he finished.  It wasn't often that they got good food like this.

            "Yess!"

            "No!"

            "Well," Lance drawled.  "It looks like Kurt's the winner."  Todd was ripping his hair out in frustration.  Kurt whooped in celebration.  Finally, he turned to Todd who was looking almost panicky.  "Pay up!" he crowed.

            Lance went still.

            Todd laughed nervously and glanced at Lance and back to Kurt.

            "You. Bet. Money?"  Lance asked with terrible slowness.  Kurt, unaware at the danger, shrugged.  "Only ten bucks."

            "TEN?!  Toad," he growled.  Todd flinched.  Kurt began to look confused.  "Is that a problem?" he asked.  Realization dawned.  "Oh, uh, if you can't pay-" he started, but Lance cut him off.

            "No.  Toad.  Pay him."  Todd nodded and dug out a balled-up bill.  There went his lunch money for a week.  Damn.  He was really regretting the bet now.  He offered it to Kurt who hesitated.

            "Um, you really don't havta pay.  It was only a friendly bet."

            "A bet's a bet.  Take it."  He shoved the money into Kurt's hands and turned away.  Shame burned into his cheeks.  A hand pressed on his shoulder and he looked up, startled.  Lance gave him a hard look, before saying shortly, "Go eat, Todd," and turning away.  Todd let out a silent sigh.  If Lance was using his name then he wasn't really angry.  Thank God.

            "Now, Fuzz-ball.  I'll play you.  For twenty dollars," Lance said to Kurt.  Todd tripped on his way to the food.  Wha-what?!  Even Kurt looked startled.

            "A-are you sure?"

            "What, don't think you can beat me?"

            "N-no, but..."

            "Chicken."

            Kurt scowled.  "Fine!  I'd love to have some extra cash!  You're on!"

            Twenty minutes later.

            "Ha!"

            "Shit!"

            Lance was scowling fit to put a normal man into cardiac arrest as he paid Kurt.  Collapsing into the seat next to Todd, he sighed.  "If we keep this up, we will leave completely broke."

            "Wanda'll kill us, yo."

            "Yeah."

            "And why should I kill you?  Besides the obvious, I mean," asked someone behind him.  They froze.  Todd let out a frightened squeak, before switching over to his "Wanda" mode.

            "Wanda-darling!  You're here!  You're looking as hot as ever, I see!" Todd said, bounding over the couch to greet her.  There was no way that Wanda would come to the Institute in her yellow and white striped work clothes, so she had stopped at home to change.  She wore her black combat boots and torn, red tights under black shorts.  Her shirt was small and showed off her belly button in the hottest way, in Todd's mind, and topped the ensemble with her traditional red trench coat.  She glared at him, but Todd didn't let that phase him.  He hopped around her, spouting some very bad pick-up lines.

            Lance glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to find it after four in the afternoon.  Time was certainly passing a lot faster than he'd expected.

            "How's the idiot?" Wanda asked suddenly.  Todd stopped his excited hopping and looked at the ground.

            "Not good," Lance said.  "We're taking turns sitting with him."

            "You can go after Fred gets back," Todd offered.  Wanda nodded silently, her gaze flicking over the watching audience.  "Got something to say?" she snapped.  The students shook their heads and drifted off.  Of course, they'd heard about Wanda.  None of them wanted to mess with her.  Well, actually, even if they did, Logan had been very explicit about the punishment if they started, or participated, in a fight against their guests.  Some of the more impressionable students would probably have nightmares.  Kurt jumped suddenly, then looked as though he were listening to something.  

            "Ah, Vanda.  You're up," he announced.  Wanda blinked.  Todd hopped though the door.  "C'mon, Wanda-honey!  I'll show you the way, yo!"

            "Stop calling me that, Toad," Wanda replied as she followed him.

            Todd left her with Pietro, following a silent Fred back upstairs.  Glancing back just as he passed through the door, he saw Wanda staring down at the immobile body of her twin brother.  Shaking his head, he shut the door softly behind him.

This could not be happening.  Wanda couldn't believe that this was happening.  This was the sort of thing that happened to loving families, to people who never did any wrong.  Not to Pietro, never to her brother.  Not that she ever allowed herself to think of him as such.  Pietro was a _traitor.  He always was and he always will.  He'd left her to go insane inside that _place_.  Ignored her when she had called out to him, begging him to help her.  Never even looked at her as they carried her away.  Denied her.  Betrayed her._

            But now...

            He had been trying.  Albeit, rather clumsily.  He had been trying to be a brother to her.  To do what is best for her, even when he didn't even know her anymore.  He had still clung to her, pretending as if the past never happened.  He had been trying to start on a clean slate, but Wanda couldn't.  Even if she wanted to, she couldn't forget the look of denial on his face when they took her away.  Him.  Him or their father.  But she wouldn't kill him.  No.  Pietro's efforts had allowed him that much.  Pietro would not die by her hand, but nor will she forgive him.  Not while he remained loyal to Magneto.  Not while Magneto still lived.  Not while the scene still replayed itself in her mind whenever she looked at his face.

            His face.  That gaunt, sunken in face did not belong on Pietro.  Not on him.  He was always so cool and confidence.  A look that held an all-knowing expression commonplace on his face.  His face.  That face that changed so quickly, from happy to sad, pleading puppy-dog-eyes to acid stare.  Each emotion flickered by so quickly that Wanda was never sure what he was thinking, or even if those emotions were real.  Betrayal.

            "Pietro..."  Hesitantly, Wanda placed a hand on Pietro's, watching his throat work for air.  "Damn you, Pietro," she hissed, clenching her hand tight around his.  "You're not allowed to die!  I'm supposed to be the one to kill you, remember?!  How can I do that if you die first?!"  But she wouldn't kill him.  Not while he still tried.  He wasn't allowed to die.  In that case, he must just be sleeping.  Yes.  That was it.  So, all she had to do was wake him up.  He had to open his eyes.  He must wake up.  "Pietro..." Her voice was hoarse and trembling.  "Pietro... time to wake up." she shook him gently.  "Wake up...Wake up!"  The beeping of the machine sped up briefly.  Wanda didn't even notice as she shook him violently.  "WAKE UP DAMMIT!" Her fists where balled on his chest, shaking him with all her might, her powers sending the room crackling. Wanda didn't even notice the doors slamming open as Hank ran in.  "OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES YOU MORON!" Wanda screamed.  The machines squealed.  The room shook.  Hank rushed forward, pulling Wanda off Pietro while she continued shrieking.  "YOU BASTARD!  OPEN YOUR EYES! GODDAMN YOU!  OPEN YOUR EYES!"  Hank held her tightly as she thrashed against him, shushing gently.  Wanda screamed, but Hank's grip was like iron.  Finally, eventually, she collapsed, sobbing in great heaves.  Hank lowered her to the ground, holding her gently now as she cried. "You'd better not leave me again, Pietro," she whispered between sobs. _I don't think I could stand loosing you again._

~~~~~~~~~~~

Will Pietro awaken?  Will he succum to his wounds?  Will this story EVER move on?  Well, these answers, and more, will be in the VERY NEXT CHAPTER!  Stay tuned! ^^

TBC......


	5. Sight

Chapter Five

"Sight"

I see the world.

I see the happy, the sad,

The proud, the fallen.

I see all these things.

Yet I say nothing.

I see a boy,

Alone, forgotten,

Holding a wilted rose.

A girl, crying,

Huddled in the dark,

Clinging to wisps of light.

Joys, hopes that flee,

Abandon us at sight.

Fly at all speed,

To visit another.

Only to be off again a breath later.

I see all these things.

I see the world.

And I weep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hot again.  Waves of heat clung to the ground like moisture on a fevered brow, while the drone of katydids nearly drowned all other noise out.  In the bowels of the Institute, however, it was quite cool.  In fact, several members of the X-men had retreated beneath their home to hide from the scorching heat.  Finally banned from the medical wing for constant hovering, Evan Daniels trudged through their maze of a basement, hands thrust into his trouser pockets.

The Brotherhood were being surprisingly polite during the last twenty-four hours they'd stayed.  Lance had brooded silently, all the while staying in sight of Toad and Blob, who also seemed reluctant to fall out of each other's gaze.  Toad and Kurt stayed in a video-game death-match most of the time, steadily working through their entire collection of games.  When Evan had last checked, the score was 87 to 73 in Kurt's favor.  They had refrained from betting money since the first go, but both boys had been seen around the Institute, sometimes with an irate Jean or Kitty on their tail.  They had resorted to betting pranks rather than money.  The Blob had sat himself in a corner, watching the goings on with an expression of mild interest.  One of the younger students, Bobby, had approached him and they had played a quick game of Go-Fish until Blob had nearly broken the table when he lost.  After the ensuing chaos, the place had trembled dangerously.  Lance was still staring out the window, but he let the ground give one last, warning roll.  The fight had ended quickly, with no causalities.

Wanda remained holed up in the infirmary. When questioned why, by Hank, she had said that she was just making sure that Pietro wasn't going to take the easy way out.  Wanda stayed by his side, playing solitaire with a deck of cards she'd stolen from one of Magneto's men.  Evan had even spoken to the girl when he'd come in with a tray a food sent by the Professor the evening before.

            She had barely glanced up when the door opened and Evan had entered, carrying the tray.  Silently, he put it next to her game and stood staring down.  "...Move the two over to that three, there," he said, pointing.

            "I know," Wanda had snapped automatically.  Evan snorted. "Well, sorree.  The Professor said ya need to eat." He gestured towards the filled plates.

            "I'll be _fine_.  I don't _need_ a baby-sitter."

            "Neither do I, and look where that got me."

            Wanda finally tore her eyes away from her cards and glared at him.  "Is there something to want, Spykie?"

            Evan ignored the slight jibe.  "Why do you hate him so much?" He asked softly.

            This time it was Wanda's turn to snort.  "I could as you the same question.  You and Pietro always seem to be at each other's throats."

            "Well, that's cuz he's a conniving, arrogant, egotistical, pain-in-the-ass.  What's your excuse?"

            "It isn't any of your business."

            "Nah, I suppose not," Evan conceded, turning his gaze to the bed.  "Whatever it is, I think it bothers him."

            "Yeah right. How can _you_ tell? It's not like you're around.  He's fine with the way things are."

            Evan shrugged.  "I dunno.  It's just that, Pietro would be all up in your face if he didn't really care.  So, I think, him acting as if he don't care proves that he does."

            "You're a moron," Wanda said, but she glanced at the bed.  She growled and returned to her game, successfully ignoring him until he'd given up and left.

            Evan's stomach gurgled and he sighed.  It was nearly lunch time and Evan was starving.  He hadn't been this hungry in a while, perhaps he was going to have another growth spurt. He hoped so.  He hated glaring up at people like Scott or, just about any person who annoyed him. He liked it that Pietro was only an inch taller than him, but he wished it was the other way around.  On his way back upstairs, he paused as a pair of raised voices caught his attention.

            "Fuck that! I don't care!"

            Evan frowned. That sounded like Lance's voice.  Curious now, he edged closer to the voices just around the corner.

"So what?! Neither do they, Lance!" It was Toad's voice, hissing in a failed attempt to keep his voice down.  "It's not a good time, now! You know that! They're always busy this time of year."

Evan could hear Lance's scowl in his voice. "So what?"

"She won't see you."

"Yes she will.  Listen, you know as well as me that the best way to find out what happened to Pietro would mean going to the Lady."

They had Evan's full attention now.

Toad sighed.  "I know that.  But, listen, yo, you can't go _now_.  What'll we tell the X-geeks?"

"I don't give a rat's ass what you tell them."

"Lance!"

"Listen, you think I care?! I don't care if I tell them I've gone to Magneto to tell him that they kidnapped 'Tro! Just give me until sundown.  If I'm not back by then..."

"We'll go und look for ya," Blob's rumbled finished for him.

"And go straight to the Lady," Toad grumbled.

"Right.  I'm off. I'll see you kids later."

As their voices faded away, Evan remained, staring at the wall opposite.  They didn't know it, but they had put him in quite a difficulty.  What was that about?  Lance seemed adamant about going, no matter what Toad said.  It was something about what had happened to Pietro?  Who was the Lady and how would she know? Unless she was in on it somehow.  Maybe that's why Lance needed to go, to avenge his friend.  Then why didn't he have Wanda and the others to go with him?  Wanda, most certainly, would want to go.  Unless he thought that it would be too dangerous, Wanda might blow up half the city before checking her temper.

So, what next?  Should he tell the professor?

"Hey, Evan? What are you doing here?"

Evan jumped.  "Uh, oops," he said rather sheepishly as he saw Scott pick himself off the floor from where he'd dived when a three foot spike embedded itself right where his head had been.

"Yeah, careful with those," Scott said, laughing, a little nervously.  "What's up?"

"Ah, noth'n." Evan glanced behind briefly.  Scott frowned.

"You sure?  You can talk to me, if you want."

Evan looked at Scott for a long moment.  Knowing Scott, the second he heard that Lance had left, he'd be after him like a shot of his eye-beams. Either he'd confront him, or he'd follow him to see what he was up too.  Evan made up his mind.

            Lance's eyes flickered around quickly.  The neighborhood he currently made his way through was not safe at any time of day.  Fortunately, his reputation kept the worst muggers and thieves at bay, but there were always idiots running about.  Idiots can be very dangerous.  It made him glad that Todd was still at the Institute.  There was one less idiot out on the streets.  The thought made him grin briefly.

Catching sight of a dirty, green-gray coat, Lance sped up.  The coat's owner had his back towards him as he approached at speed.  Slapping a hand on his shoulder, Lance spun him around.

"Oi! Whatchit!"  Blurry, blue eyes focused on him and grinned.  "Oh, Ts you. Hallo, Knight."

"Rooster," Lance greeted coolly. "I want to see the Lady."

The man called the Rooster raised a scabbed eyebrow.  "Ya think ya can just waltz up ta me und say ya wanna see 'er Ladyship und I'll just letcha?"

"It's important, Rooster."

"So ya say, so ya say. But 'ow do I know?"

Lance lifted the scrawny man off the ground and slammed him against the alley-wall.

"Ah," Rooster coughed. "I see. Awright, j'st put me down."  Lance dropped him like a hot coal.

Rubbing his collarbone, the Rooster eyed him suspiciously.  "Why'dyou wanna see Her so badly?"

Lance shot him an icy-glare.  "It's none of your business, Rooster."

Rooster snorted. "Right, right. Sure, whatevah. Com'on." Gesturing lazily, he slipped down an alley. Lance followed him quietly.  They walked in silence, the day's heat pressing down on them, making rivulets of sweat run down their bodies.

"How can you where a coat in this heat?" Lance asked finally.

Rooster grinned, brushing back a lock of hair of a strangely mixed hue of brown and sterling gray.  "T's my trademark. 'Ow could I not? So, how's Toad do'n? Haven't seen 'im round lately."

"Fine."

"Sure, sure. 'Fine,' ya say. Che. That's so helpful," he sighed dramatically.

"He's alive and unharmed. Has food and a little cash. What else do you want?"

"...He happy?"

"Not at the moment, but, mostly, yeah."

"Good, good.  Do ya realize we're be'in followed?"

"Yes."

Rooster ruffled his hair as they turned a corner.  "A red head.  Sunglasses."

Lance scowled at the empty air in front of him. "Summers..."

"Should I call down the kids?"

Lance thought for a minute.  A slow grin spread across his face. "Nah.  Let him follow."

Rooster coughed.  "Wha? J'st, _let_ him? Are ya nutters?"

"That one," Lance jerked his head back towards the trailing Scott, "Is one of the X-men."

"Oh. _Oh_.  Hm," Rooster grinned.  "Well, well.  This is gonna get inter'sting."

"Yes."

"Yur a nasty buggar, ya know that? Well, com'on." He gestured towards an old building that had, at one point, been a warehouse.  Through it's evolution the building had seen many renovations, but none of which in recent decades.  The prime molding was crumbling.  Windows were boarded up, and the surrounding area was barren of plant life.  To Lance, it looked like home, only bigger.  After a quick glance at a grinning Rooster, he ducked under the low-hanging door and entered.

Scott followed in what he thought to be a discreet manner about ten feet behind Lance and his unknown companion.  He'd caught up with them just as the man had pulled Lance down an alleyway not ten minutes before.  They were in a section of town that Scott had never seen before.  Rats scuttled underfoot and along the sides of buildings, trying to find water and shade.  _Speaking of shade_, Scott thought as he glanced around.  He could feel eyes watching him from the alley-mouths.  It sent his nerves jangling.  How many where out there?  He didn't know.  Glancing behind him, he turned the final corner and found himself facing a large, abandoned warehouse.  Lance and that man where no-where to be seen. Scowling at his being distracted, Scott hurried into the building.

"Hallo there!"

Scott spun, his hands on his sunglasses before he even saw who spoke.

"Whoa, there, sunny!  Careful where ya point those things, ya never know when they're gonna go off!"

Scott slowly took in the sight before him.  It was that man he'd seen before.  Only an inch or two shorter than him, he had to be well into his twenties.  He wore a gray-green trench coat with the collar turned up, a simple, white t-shirt, and plain, brown pants, all of which had seen better days.  The man had a Cheshire grin on his face as he held his hands out in an effort to show he was unarmed. "I'm called the Rooster. Whatcha called?"

Scott hesitated.  Since he'd been given a choice... "Cyclops."

The Rooster's grin widened. Scott felt like he'd just been given a test, but he wasn't sure on the results.  

"Welcome! Knight's gotta audience with her Ladyship, so ya gotta wait in anoutha room," Rooster chirped happily. Taking his arm, he steered Scott down the long hallway further into the building.  Scott gaped and went to speak, but was shoved into a room with the door shut behind him.

"What the hell?!"

"Tsk, tsk, ya no James Bond, are ya?  Ya got a lotta learn 'bout be'n sneaky if ya wanna survive 'round here," Rooster chastised.  Scott growled, shifting into his fighting stance.

"Now, now, there's no need fer that.  Ya just gotta wait here 'til Knight's finished with 'er Ladyship.  Don't worry, I won't lock the door. But ya gonna have a guard..."

The door opened just then.  Rooster gaped for a second, then shrugged.  "Well, well. Ya got Gabriel as a guard," he whistled.  "Aw right.  See ya 'round, porkchops!" Rooster crowed as he left.

"It's Cyclops!" Scott yelled at the shut door.  He received no answer.  Finally, Scott turned to his guard, Gabriel.  Gabriel was tall, had to be over six feet, and slim.  His long, dark hair was swept back and tied with an old, battered piece of string at the base of his neck.  Sharp, blue eyes stared blandly at him surrounded with thick lashes.  His face was long and finely boned, set in a permanent expression of disinterest.  He swore simple clothing, much like Rooster's, but without the trench coat.  While he didn't seem dangerous, Scott could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"How long must I wait?" he asked, trying to be polite, but his nervousness presented itself in his snappish tone.  Gabriel didn't answer, only gestured that Scott should sit down.  Frowning, he did so, making sure to face both the door and his silent guard.

Silence reigned with an iron fist in the small room.  After a while, seeing that Gabriel wasn't going to jump him, Scott found his gaze traveling over the room.  It was surprising cozy.  That was a strange word to use when the atmosphere was so tense, but true.  The white-washed room was filled with light pouring through the unshuttered window.  There was no glass in the pane, so the noises from outside filled the silence.  There were three small, worn couches positioned in the middle of the room around a coffee table.  It was simply furnished, but something about the room projected an air of _home_-ness. Which was strange, considering where he lived.

Scott surreptitiously glanced over at his supposed guard.  The man had his eyes shut and appeared to be napping. He frowned. Some guard, he could just walk out now, if he wanted too. But Scott didn't want to.  He wanted to see what Lance was up to, and who this lady was he wanted so desperately to see.  And why he seemed so adamant that they didn't get involved! Lance was up to something and it had to do with Pietro.  It was Scott's _duty_ to find out what. For the safety of the X-men.

The door opened with a bang, startling the daylights out of the silently fuming Scott.  Before he could move, a small blur sped into the room and under the table.  Scott blinked.  After the initial shock, he moved so he could peer underneath.  A child of about ten or eleven years old sat there, grinning.  Upon seeing him, she placed a finger to her lips.  Glancing up at his unmoving guard he saw that Gabriel was still oblivious.  Tch, some guard. He flinched as another loud bang echoed somewhere down the hall.  The girl broke out into a large grin and crawled out from under the table.

"Thanks! I didn't want Knight to find me!" she chirped. Scott leaned back as the girl came out and found himself smiling along with her.  The girl seemed so happy at hiding from "Knight." She had long, dark brown hair braided down her back and the clearest green eyes Scott had ever seen.

"My name's Scott.  What's yours?" he asked, offering a hand.

"Elizabeth, but you can call me Lizzy!"  Lizzy didn't seem to see his hand, jumping up to sit next to him.

"Hello, Lizzy. What are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly!" The small girl said.

"But should you be here, in this room? I could be dangerous, you know. They even gave me a guard," Scott smirked, jerking a thumb at Gabriel.

"Yes, you are! That's why Gabriel is guarding you! Gabriel is the Lady's own personal guard, so that is a high honor!"

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Lady? Who is she? Do you know her?"

Lizzy grinned. "Yup! You see, when I lost my family, I had no place to stay, but other kids had similar problems and had been banning together to survive. The Lady rules over them. Her entire purpose is to make sure that everyone is protected and as a place.  But what are you doing here? You don't seem like you need a place." She tugged at his clothes as evidence.

Scott balked. "How many people live here?"

"Right now? There are about twenty, from ages two to twenty-five!"

            Scott couldn't think of anything to respond to this.  The girl seemed quite talkative, maybe he could get some information out of her. "I followed someone I know here. He's up to no good, I just know it, and I came to see what."

"Who? Knight?"

"No, his name is Lance Alvers."

"Right! Knight! Sir Lancelot, the Knight of the Lady.  He saved us all a while ago during a Mutant attack and the Lady gave him the title. I think it's a joke, too, but no-one will tell me why."

"A Mutant attack? When?"

"A while ago, I don't remember when," Lizzy waved a hand dismissively.

"So, Lance was looking for you just now?"

"Uh-huh. I think I made him angry. But come on! Let's go for a walk and I can show you around!" Lizzy leapt up, pulling on his arm.

"But I'm supposed to wait here..."

"That's okay, Gabriel can come too! C'mon Gabby!"  To Scott's surprise, Gabriel stood, opening his eyes.  Was he awake that whole time?  Scott allowed himself to be pulled out of the room watching suspiciously as Gabriel followed him.

"Come on! Come on!"

"Wait, do you know where Lance went?"  Scott asked.  Lizzy shrugged.

"Home, probably."

"He left already!?"

"Uh-huh! He seemed upset about something."

The girl seemed to know a lot about Lance. Maybe the Brotherhood had dealings with these people and obviously the Lady.  Who was the Lady? Wasn't Scott supposed to meet her?  These thoughts flew from his mind as he passed an open doorway. Inside was a girl of about fourteen, playing Ping-Pong with another boy.  However, that wasn't what caught his attention.  The fact that they were playing with no paddles and a small fireball as a ball was.  Scott froze. "Wait! They're Mutants!"

Lizzy paused and looked in. "Yup. That's Annie and Tyler.  Annie likes fire and Tyler can make invisible walls."

"But...why haven't they been recruited?" If the Brotherhood knew about them, then shouldn't Magneto? Wait, maybe Magneto did, and this whole place was where he was hiding new Mutants.

"Recruited? For what? They aren't very strong." The girl seemed nonplused by his reaction.

"But, they're Mutants!"

"We prefer the term 'Talents.' Mutants sounds so...um," Lizzy stopped, searching for a word.

"Vulgar," Gabriel supplied.

"Right!" Lizzy nodded.

Scott shot a look at Gabriel, who ignored him. "Do you all have talents?"

"Nah. The Lady says that it would be wrong to ignore anyone when they need help, no matter what they can or cannot do."

"Anyone?"

"Yup! Knight stayed here for about a week before going back to Pietro, Toad, and Fred. Said it was too tame here," she giggled.  "I'd hate to see what you'd get up to if you think this place is tame."

            Scott gave Lizzy a long look. How old was this kid? She spoke as if she was his age but she sure didn't look it.  She walked lightly, as if trying to hold herself from dancing down the hall.  Her energetic grin was infectious and Scott found himself smiling along with her as she showed him around the warehouse.  It was quiet.  It seemed as though no one beside themselves and the two playing Ping-Pong were home.

            "Where is everybody?" Scott found himself asking about ten minutes later.

            Lizzy looked up from their tour of the second floor toilets (apparently a new novelty from their last home).  "Working!"

            "Really? Wow." Scott thought about it for a minute. "Wait, even the kids?"

            "Uh-huh! Annie and Tyler have the day off today, and Gabriel stays here to guard the Lady."

            "And you?"

            "I'm not allowed out," she said sulkily.

            "Why not?"

            "Lizzy-chan!" 

            Scott turned to find the source of the sudden call when something rushed past him.  The man, the Rooster picked up Lizzy and spun her around. Lizzy squealed. "Rooster!"

            Laughing, he set her down again.  "Sorry, chibi, but I haven't seen ya out of that room barely at all lately!"

            "I know! It's awful, isn't it?" Lizzy moaned.

            "Is there something you need, Rooster?" Gabriel asked suddenly.

            Rooster blinked at him for a moment. "Oh right! Sorry, chibi, but I need ta speak with the Lady."

            "Oh," Lizzy sighed. "Okay.  Scott?" she turned to him. "Do you mind?  I'm sorry to cut short our tour, but..."

            "It's important that I speak with the Lady, James," Rooster said.

            "James?"

            "Bond, James Bond, ya know..." Rooster winked at Scott.

Lizzy frowned, a tiny crinkle marring her forehead. "No... Is it like 'Lancelot?'"

            Rooster laughed. "Somethin' like that."

            "That's okay," Scott faked a smile. "I'll find my own way out."

            "No way! Gabby can show you the shortest way out of the neighborhood! It's almost dark and this area can get really bad at night," Lizzy said.  Scott eyed Gabriel from behind his shades. Gabriel's face didn't twitch.  "Alright.  Can I...visit again? I would love to meet this 'Lady' of yours."

            "Of course!  Find Rooster and he'll show you the way. It's hard to find, otherwise!"

            "Okay, I will. Goodbye!" Scott said, waving. Lizzy and the Rooster were already halfway down the hall.

            "Bye-bye!"

            "Later, James!"

            Scott turned his gaze to Gabriel. Inclining his head, the dark-haired man motioned for Scott to follow him.

            The trip out of the neighborhood was a quiet one. The streets were empty, even the alleyways were devoid of eyes.  When they reached the street seperating the slums from the rest of town, Gabriel spoke. "My Lady wishes it to be understood that you will not speak of our Talents with anyone. We want no difficulties."

            Scott raised an eyebrow.  "You could have more problems keeping it a secret. Your mutants would be safer at the Institute."

            "No. There is safety in numbers and our Lady will protect us.  She won't hesitate to use all that is within her power to keep us safe," he said with a meaningful look.

            Scott sighed. "Understood.  As long as there is no trouble, I won't tell anyone.  But keep in mind, I will if I hear of any mutants attacking innocent people."

            Gabriel watched him for a moment, then nodded. "I will remember those words."  He walked away without another word.

            Lance was pissed, but only slightly.  The Lady seemed annoyed by his sudden visit for all her apparent joy at the sight of him.  She was like that.  He'd pressed her about any information on Pietro she had had.  As the head of the children's part of the Underground, the Lady had information of just about everybody in the city.  Not that she remembered most of it.  She had seemed shocked about Pietro's condition, which meant that she had no clue about what had happened.  She did promise, however, to dig up all the information for the past four months, just in case something came up.  And Lance was supposed to be appeased by this! Still, there was nothing he could do at this point until he had some kind of lead.

            He made it back to the Institute a good hour before Scott arrived.  He had time to explain the situation to Todd and Fred, and convince Wanda not to go charging after the Lady and demand the information right there.  Possibly the only thing that really kept her from going was Gabriel's Talent.  The world was a much happier place with someone like Gabriel deciding to follow the Lady.  Even Pietro thought so, which was probably why Magneto was still in the dark about this particular Mutant.

            Speaking of Pietro...

            Wanda sighed as she dealt out another hand of solitaire.  It was a game of patience and strategy, mostly patience.  However, after playing it for eight hours straight, Wanda felt as though her brain was melting.  Night had fallen.  In fact, the only light in the whole building was the one in the medical lab.  Everyone else was asleep or unconscious except for her.  Evan had stopped by before going to bed.  Wanda still didn't know what to think about the boy.  He said that he was Pietro's ultimate rival, that they hated each other with a passion.  Yet, the visited the boy so often that it seemed like he never left.  Lance visited as well. Toad and Fred didn't after the initial time.  They were too creeped out at seeing their friend in such an obvious state.

            She was tired too.  Maybe she should stop for the night?  Standing, Wanda shut off the light and was about to crawl into the second cot to sleep when the call of nature made itself known. Sighing again, Wanda left, trying to remember where the bathroom was.

It was dark.  That was the first realization Pietro made when he awoke.  The darkness wrapped around him in such cold waves that he was forced to fight back a shiver.  He was cold.  That fact was always annoying to someone as skinny as he was.  Pietro's eyes remained closed as he strained for any information that hinted at his whereabouts.  He was covered in a thin sheet of cool cloth.  He lay on something soft, which was a good sign.  At least he wasn't chained up anywhere.  A steady beeping sounded somewhere to his right, soft enough not to be very noticeable.  As he became more aware, Pietro decided it was night.  That would explain it being so dark and cool.  That is, unless he was underground somewhere.  Where was he?  It wasn't his father's place.  His father always kept the lights on, and the place smelled of iron.  This place didn't smell much of anything. Except, he waited until he drew his next steady breath.  There was a slight tang in the air.  It seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.  His head fuzzed for a moment.  When it cleared he decided that he wasn't at the Brotherhood.  It was too quiet for that.  He wasn't... there.  Pietro was almost certain of that.  That is, unless, they had moved him.

All this information flitted through his mind in a fraction of a second.  Curiosity finally got the better of him and he opened his eyes.

It was dark, but not dark enough that he couldn't see.  Something was glowing next to him, but he didn't deem it safe enough to turn and look just yet.  The ceiling was metal. The walls were metal.  Ooh, bad sign.  The air was crisp and smelled of... plastic, sweat, and...that something else he couldn't put a name to.  Something was covering his left eye.  Tensing his arms slightly he felt wires shift and something move in his arm.  A needle.  A metal needle.  Shit, he hated metal.  Finally, he slowly shifted his head and looked at the strange green light.  It was a monitor with squiggly lines and numbers across it.  Behind the machine was a curtain on iron rings.  Recap, it was night, he was in a metal room that was currently acting as a medical room, and it was cold.

Unfortunately, that was all he could deduce from his surroundings.  He didn't know where he was.  He could be somewhere safe; but then again he might not.  Oh well, Pietro sighed softly, when in doubt make a break for it.  He didn't know where he was and didn't know if he was safe.  Therefore, it was time to leave.

            It took him longer to sit up than he expected.  He hurt all over, a burning, aching pain that sent his teeth on edge.  Slowly, he removed the censors from his arms, chest and head.  The steady beeping changed to a long, flat note as the machine lost his pulse.  Standing as quickly as he could manage without collapsing, Pietro unplugged the machine and it fell dead silent.  Gently, he worked the needle out of his arm, letting it fall on the bed.  Freed, Pietro paused, watching the world swirl around him as it fuzzed in and out.  His sight, blurred by the bump on his head, worsened.  Gasping, Pietro staggered to the door and pushed it open.

            The trip down the hall was a long one. He leaned heavily against the cool, steel wall, dragging himself forward, step by faltering step. His only thought was _get away_.

            "P-Pietro?!"

            Pietro jerked his head up and immediately regretted it. Moaning to himself, he shut his eyes tight against the flash of color and pain.  Firm hands gripped his shoulder, keeping him from falling.

            "What are you doing up, you stupid ass?!"

            Pietro knew that voice. Fuck, who was it? It sounded so familiar. His brain didn't send up any red flags so it couldn't be someone too dangerous to him.  Right?  Opening unfocused, red-shot eyes, Pietro looked at the blob of color in front of him.  A name rose up in his pain-hazed mind.

            "Wanda?"

            He passed out.

~~~~~~~~~

Skycat: And he's...out of the coma! Hazzah!  Sorry about the long wait. I was hoping to get 40 reviews before I updated again...maybe I should have said? Also, this chapter did not want to be written. But it's done.  This time I shall say that I want at least 50 reviews before I update.  I won't update any day but a Saturday, and view my Personal Profile for Posting dates in advance. Ja ne!


	6. Ideal

Chapter 6

James Bond. The ideal man. He's handsome, smart, debonair, strong, and a will that will never, ever break. The ideal man. Idealism is an ugly word, full of hope and promise yet as empty as a doll's smile. That's the problem with idealism. It's belief in something that can never be reality. That's why I never have ideals. I have morals, a conscious rulebook that I will never break. They are the things that keep me grounded as myself. The only thing that keeps me from succumbing to the blinding pain of the past.

Idealism is false.

Everyone breaks.

* * *

The news buzzed around the Institute the next morning like an incessant fly. Pietro was awake. Well, they'd quickly amend, had been awake. According to rumor, Pietro had woken up in a fit and wrestled out of Hank's care (assumed also to be his grasp as he tried to keep him in bed) and managed to get clear across the mansion before taken down by Wanda. Also, not part of the rumor but part of the updated report that Hank had given Xavier, Pietro had reopened wounds on his stomach and arm. He had also managed to worsen his ankle's slight sprain to one that required a cast for a few weeks.

Besides this slightly upsetting news, the atmosphere in the place was exuberant. Most of that feeling stemming from the Brotherhood. In fact, when Toad heard the news, he had celebrated with a swift bottle exchange that resulted in the females tying him upside-down from the chandelier and Toad swearing that the dye was only temporary. Kurt had found the prank particularly hilarious. He announced that the blue-haired girls to be "Fuzzy-fans" and had to hide from them for the rest of the day.

In fact, the only people uncertain about the news were some of the elder students, all of whom remembered exactly how Pietro acted. Evan was particularly nervy. He hovered outside the Medical room, unsure whether his presence would be wanted.

Lance smiled slightly as he stared down at Pietro's inert form. Hank had assured him that Pietro was only resting, no longer in the coma he'd been in before. He should wake up any time now.

In fact, just as Lance thought this, Pietro stirred. The Brotherhood, who had camped out in the small room for most of the day, went absolutely still, their attention riveted on Pietro. Eyelids fluttered for a moment, then opened, focusing slightly blurrily on the concerned face just above him. "Aargh!"

"Uh, Todd, just come stand over here," Lance suggested idly. Todd sulked and moved out of Pietro's view. Pietro stiffened slightly at the sound of the voice and turned in mild surprise to encounter the entire Brotherhood staring down at him. He blinked at them.

"Hey man," Lance said, his smile faint but warm.

Todd grinned broadly, bouncing out of the room he yelled at the top of his lungs, "He's awake!"

Pietro had absolutely had no idea how to react. His mind was whirring frantically trying to figure out what was going on. Opening his mouth to speak he choked, coughing, as his voice refused to work. He felt slightly drowsy, as if he'd slept for a very long time. The spasm passed quickly, leaving Pietro pinned underneath the happy, yet concerned gaze of Lance, Fred, and…Wanda? Why was Wanda there? In his nervousness, Pietro glanced down to find a needle sticking out of his arm.

A needle.

In his arm.

Pumping unknown chemicals into his system.

A fraction of a second later the needle crashed against a wall, shattering.

"Hey! Careful 'Tro!" Lance stepped forward, frowning. Pietro pressed his hand against the tiny wound and stuck his tongue out at Lance. At this childish, very Pietro reaction, Lance grinned. "Good to have ya back, man."

Pietro blinked. Had he left? Wait. Where were they? They couldn't afford a hospital! He tried to ask Lance, but all that came out was a hoarse wheezing. He began to get nervous. What happened? Why was he in this bed? Why was everyone acting so odd? Why was Wanda there? What the hell was going on?!

"Hey!" Lance's panicked voice didn't even make him pause as he struggled to get out of the confining bed. Lance grabbed his arms, trying to hold him down. Unexpected and complete terror swamped Pietro's already unnerved mind. The fear felt almost tangible, freezing him inside and out. His body stiffened. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see! Everything was black with terror. Drowning him in it.

Lance jumped back quickly as he felt Pietro stiffen. His body curled in on itself, trembling against an unseen force. "P-Pietro?" Hesitantly, he reached forward and placed a hand on Pietro's arm. He yanked his hand back quickly as Pietro flinched violently, his shaking increasing tenfold. He backed away, completely at a loss.

Wanda brushed past him and sat by Pietro's side. She didn't touch him, but glared up at Fred. "Get Big Blue and Baldy. Now!" Fred didn't need to be told twice, hurrying out of the room as quickly as his large form could go. Then, quite carefully, she brushed Pietro's hair back from his face, grimacing at the resulting twitch, but continued to comb his hair with her fingers. She remembered doing this when they were kids. It always soothed Pietro. The vain twat always enjoyed being fretted over.

Slowly, very slowly, the tremors stilled. Yet, the white-haired teen didn't move as Wanda ran her fingers through fine, if rather dirty, hair. Lance tried to pretend he wasn't there, feeling as though he were trespassing on something precious. Finally, Pietro moved. Wanda jerked back and crossed her arms, trying to pretend that nothing happened, as Pietro stiffly tried to sit up. He didn't meet their eyes.

"You okay?" Lance asked, finally breaking the awkward silence. Pietro opened his mouth and coughed again. Flinching, he grabbed his throat. Understanding dawned on Lance's face. Spinning, he grabbed Wanda's unused glass of water and handed it to Pietro, who downed it gratefully.

"D-damn," Pietro croaked. Wanda and Lance broke into relieved smiles at the rough sound of Pietro's voice.

"What happened? Where-?" he coughed again. "Are we?"

"You've been unconscious for some time, Mr. Maximoff," came Xavier's cool, observant voice from the doorway. Pietro stared at him., then at Lance and back. "We're…at the Institute?"

Lance nodded slightly, not meeting his eyes.

Pietro frowned. "I don't understand."

"What do you remember?" Xavier asked, rolling to his bedside.

"I remember…" Pietro frowned. Green flashed in his mind before blanking. "Running."

"And before that?"

"Uh." His head hurt horribly. Why did it matter? Still, Pietro couldn't help but wonder the same thing. He thought hard beyond the pain. "Lance. I remember Lance. He was upset about…" he hesitated. "Wanda blowing out the bulbs."

Lance gaped. That was… "That's the last thing you remember?!"

"Uh..yeah?"

"But that was three months ago!"

It was Pietro's turn to gape. "What?"

Xavier sighed. "Let me explain. You have been comatose for about a week, ever since my students found you unconscious a few blocks from the school. Your friends last saw you three months ago. I assume at that same argument you have just mentioned. They have been invited to stay here until your injuries heal. But I must advise that you stay here. At least until you have completely healed."

Pietro shook his head. He didn't understand. What happened? Raising an arm he stared at the bandages.

"No way," Lance said flatly. They all turned to stare at him. His glare threatened bodily harm to Xavier. "We're taking Pietro home."

Pietro stared at Lance dumbly. His head hurt too much to deal with this. Xavier's expression turned rather more serious as he regarded the young Alvers. "I understand your concern, Lance. However, Pietro must stay here if he is to heal fully."

"And why's that?"

"Simply the fact that we have the equipment and means to help. You're welcome to stay here…"

"He won't 'heal' fully or whatever as long as he's here. How can anyone be comfortable enough to recover while held in their enemy's house?!"

"Under the circumstances I don't believe we are enemies."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?! We've been through too much shit to be able to just switch back and forth like that at a whim."

"I hardly believe that this is a whim, Mr. Alvers. I merely meant that it is in Pietro's best interest to give us the benefit of the doubt in this situation."

Pietro watched the argument bounce back and forth like a bad game of table-tennis. If he wasn't so damned tired than he'd give them both some choice words about acting as though he weren't there.

"His best interest?! How is practically keeping him prisoner here his best interest?!"

"He is hardly a prisoner either. He may leave whenever he wishes, as long as Dr. McCoy agrees."

"Oh great! That's as good as saying that he has to stay as long as you hold the damn keys! Why should he just give you the benefit of the doubt like that! Give me one good reason!"

"We saved his life," Xavier responded smoothly. Lance faltered.

_Well, that's your mistake,_ Pietro thought, mildly amused. "Why did you help me?" he spoke up suddenly. Xavier and Lance's eyes swiveled to meet his."It's not as if I've ever given you reason to." He coughed. _And given you just about every reason not to._

"I would never turn down anyone who needed help."

_Idealistic morons_. He would have said more, but his voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk.

"We're taking him home," Lance stated with finality.

"And what do you plan to do then? He has lost a lot of blood and nutrition, do you know what to do? He is still severely injured and I don't believe he will be up to walking any time soon. Especially after that incident last night."

_Incident_? Pietro drew a blank.

"We'll be fine. Thanks for all you've done and all that, but we can take it from here."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot in good conscience allow Pietro to leave just yet."

The foundation rumbled dangerously.

"H-hey! Injured person in the room!" Pietro protested, clutching at the bed frame. The room settled almost instantly with Lance looking flushed and embarrassed.

"He stays," Wanda announced. They gawked at her. She glared at Lance as if daring him to contradict her. "He'll be safer here than he would any place else. Hell, not even Magneto would attack this place without an army. He stays." With that, she got up and stalked out of the room. Lance scowled and chased after her.

"Don't I get any say in this?" Pietro grumbled.

Xavier smiled slightly. "None whatsoever. I'm afraid you'll be staying here for a while. Now, will you allow Hank to examine you?"

Pietro looked up to find the resident doctor casually leaning up against the wall. How long had he been standing there? Smirking lightly, Hank pushed himself from the wall and lumbered over to him. "I see you removed the shunt," he commented casually.

"The what?"

"The IV needle."

Pietro glanced down at his arm. "I don't like needles," he muttered.

"I can see that," Hank said, eyeing the shattered remains by the wall. "Unfortunately, you need the IV to provide for the nutrition you have lost."

"If it involved needles then not a chance. Bring me food, I'll eat," he said, even though the thought of food made him nauseous.

Hank sighed. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. You see, in your condition you are more likely to throw up the food than digest it. You need to nutrition sent directly into your body to start working as soon as possible. Plus, it will help you heal faster." Pietro said nothing.

"How about if we provide a needle with a plastic point?" Xavier suggested carefully.

Pietro looked up dubiously. "Do they even make those?"

"I'm sure we can arrange it."

Pietro considered it for a moment. "No," he said finally.

Xavier fought back a sigh of annoyance, even though he was mildly amused. Why must these boys be so stubborn? "Why not?"

Pietro snorted. As if he'd tell them that.

"You can face away from the needle and I can cover the area up if it helps," Hank suggested.

"No."

"It really is necessary if you wish to get well."

_You don't understand_. "…I… can't. I just…can't."

Xavier and Hank shot glances at each other. Pietro was staring at his arm again, rubbing it with his thumb. "Why not?" Xavier asked delicately.

Pietro didn't answer for a long moment. He stared unseeing at the continuous movement of his thumb. Suddenly, he looked up, grinning. "IV! Ha! I don't need no stinking IV! I'm Quicksilver, remember! Not even my own body can keep up with me!" Pietro stopped, oh, that didn't come out right.

"Yes. That's what we've worried about," Hank said.

Pietro snorted. "I won't be slowed down by something like this! In a few days, I'll be up and outta here!"

"Yes, but I'm worried that you'll be out of here in a body-bag if you don't let us use the IV."

Pietro flinched. Did that blue dummy really have to put it like that? Finally, he sighed. "It's…not just the needle. I can't… I don't like the chemicals."

The room was silent while Pietro tried to pretend that he hadn't say anything.

"Can pills work?" Xavier suggested thoughtfully.

Pietro perked up slightly. "I can do pills." He didn't like them, but he didn't panic at the thought of them.

Hank shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'll see what I can do. Now, time to change the bandages, Pietro." Pietro made a face at the furred man. Said furred man held out a stethoscope and grinned.

* * *

When Wanda reached about halfway down the hall, she nearly trampled over the pacing Evan. "Hey!" he said upon realizing who it was. "Is Pietro awake? He alright?"

Wanda glared at him. "Yes, he's awake."

"Oh," Evan hesitated. "How is he?"

"He's awake."

Even scowled slightly. "Yeah, you just said. How is he?"

Wanda sighed, she really didn't want to deal with this right now. Nonetheless, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Wanda!"

She turned on Lance, who glared venomously at her. "What the hell was that, Wanda?! We can't just let him stay here!"

"And why not? I'd like to see you make a better suggestion."

"We take him home!"

"And then what?! As much as I hate to admit it, Xavier's right. Pietro's in no condition to leave right now! And I don't just mean his injuries."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Wake up, Lance! Don't you remember what the fuck happened in there?! He freaked out and he doesn't even know why! He doesn't remember the last_ three _months, Alvers! What part of that is healthy to you!?"

Lance hesitated for just a minute. "And what makes you think that staying here will help him any. I know something about these things. He will remember faster if he's in a familiar environment! That means home. Back with the Brotherhood. Not surrounded by beeping monitors, needles, which you know he hates, and people that a week ago would sooner attack him than help him!"

"They are not going to attack him now."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?!"

The sound echoed through the halls, freezing them in place. Evan stared at Lance. He tensed. "What the fuck do you mean by that?!" he snapped. "You really think we'd attack a hurt, defenseless man!? Like hell! Pietro deserved whatever he got from us, and the same with you. You were the ones that kept attacking us for no damn reason!"

Lance spun on him, livid. "No damn reason?! No _damn _reason, you say!? I suppose trying to _eat _isn't a damn reason to you, is it, Mr. Big-Money-Mansion! Flaunting your blatant hypocrisy and unwanted charity in our faces! Well, fuck you, Daniels! We don't need your help! We've never needed your help!"

"Yeah! And that's why Pietro is in our Med room right now!" Evan shot. Lance grabbed Evan by the collar, jerking him up to eye-height. "Don't. You. Dare. Talk about things you _don't _understand, Daniels."

Evan didn't struggle. He glared right back at Lance, fighting to keep his spikes under the skin. "What is there to understand? You say you don't need our help? Well, apparently you do, or you wouldn't be here."

"We're here for Pietro," Lance hissed.

"Yeah, right. That's why he was missing for four fucking months before you even noticed. You don't give a damn about anyone put yourself!"

Lance slammed his fist straight into Evan's jaw. Evan fell back, his face an agony of pain. He growled and lunged, tackling Lance. Air whoomped out of Lance's chest as he fell to the floor, his head cracking on the metal floor. They rolled, punching and kicking across the cold floor. Abruptly, they were yanked violently apart . "What do ya think your do'n, bubs?" growled a voice by their ears. Logan held each boy the back of their collar and scowled at each of them. Evan snorted and wiped a trickle of blood from his lip. Lance twisted, jerking out of Logan's hold, who released him to save the boy's pride, and glared at them both. A bruise was already beginning to form around his left eye. "Dammit. I don't need this." He shot Logan a dirty look, then a brief glance at Wanda, who looked on indifferently. He turned and pushed past them.

"Where do ya think your going?" Logan called after him.

"I'm gonna take a walk," Lance snapped, not looking back. He disappeared into the elevator. Logan sighed and turned to Evan. "Ya gonna tell me what happened?" Evan scowled at him and stalked off. "What about you, missy?" Logan glanced at Wanda. Wanda said nothing. Logan sniffed. "Yah sure. Kids brawl'n in the halls and it no business of mine."

"If you see it that way," Wanda said and walked off. Logan snorted. Kids.

* * *

How dare he?! How dare he speak to him like that! That idiot didn't know anything about him! _Damn arrogant, hypocritical, ignorant _…. Lance fumed on his way out of the Institute. His head hurt and he could feel the bump welling up on the back of his head. And damn Logan for pulling him off of him! He wanted to show that…. Insults and curses raged on through his mind, most of which were anatomically impossible. …_and shove it up his ass!_

"Hey, Knight!"

Lance jumped, spinning around. "Rooster?!"

"That'd be me!" Rooster waved as he walked up. "Ohh! Nice shiner ya got there. What happened?" He grinned lopsidedly.

Lance scowled, glancing around. "I got in a fight."

"Better than running into a doorknob."

Lance shot him a look. "What is it you want, Rooster?"

"Me?" Rooster tried to look innocent. "Nothing. Only on patrol, I am."

"This far from Downtown? Hell of a beat you've got."

"Heh. Well, the Lady's sent all the kids out onna sweep, and I'm out here 'keeping out from underfoot,' I think it was."

"A sweep?" Lance blinked. "What's happening?"

"Ah, Knight. Ya know I can't tell ya nothing' 'til we've confirmed it."

"Confirmed what? She is doing what I asked, right?"

"Possibly, possibly. But what do I know? I'm just the old Rooster. Running out of crow but still with plenty of cock, if I do say so myself."

Lance grimaced. "Thanks for that lovely image-"

"Anytime."

"But I asked her to go through reports of four months ago to see what happened to Pietro."

"Oh yeah! How is the bugger anyway? Croaked yet?"

"Nah. He's awake-"

"Oh damn! Maybe next time."

Lance ignored him. "But doesn't remember a thing since we last saw him."

Rooster raised an eyebrow. "Not a thing?"

Lance thought. "He said he remembered running, but that's it."

"Oh great. Quicksilver, running. That tell us lots."

"Has she told you anything?"

Rooster considered. "Told me? Nah. She's told me nothing. But the Lady is taking this seriously, Knight. Apparently, Quicky isn't the only Talent to go missing within the last six months."

Lance jerked his head up. "What?!"

Rooster held up his hands. "And that's all I'm sayin' at this time. Any more and Gabriel will have my head."

"You will tell me as soon as you confirm anything?"

Rooster shrugged. "Not up to me. But we'll figure this out. We always do. So, tell me how ya got that black-eye."

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Xavier asked. He was back in his office with Dr. McCoy seated across the desk from him. Pietro was asleep after eventually allowing Hank to give him a sleeping pill. As soon as Pietro was unconscious, Hank slipped the IV back into him, prepared to remove it before he awoke.

"He said his vision was blurry, but that should clear up within a day or two. His vocal cords sound torn, so we need to keep him from talking as much as possible until they heal."

"A challenging task, I suspect," Xavier commented with a slight smile. "But what is your analysis on his memory loss?"

"I found it quite surprising, actually. I didn't think his head injury was as bad as all that."

"So you don't think it was caused physically?"

"No. Most likely psychological trauma of some kind. But that's not really my field of knowledge."

"Psychological trauma is when someone represses extreme memories when the mind is too overwhelmed. You think that something happened that was bad enough that he had to block the memories to protect himself?"

"Sounds like a possibility. Especially considering the little episode he had today. What triggered it, do you think?"

"I'm not sure…" Xavier paused, his hands steepled in front of his lips. "The Brotherhood children do not trust us. Not surprising, really. However, that is a problem if they continue to stay here."

"I agree, Charles. But do you really think it wise to allow them to stay until Pietro fully recovers? That could take weeks."

"I do. For one, Pietro will feel less threatened if he sees his friends here as well. It happened last night. I believe he would have tried to run again if he saw one of us first. For another, they need to see that we will welcome them if they need help. These kids have had rough lives and have become somewhat jaded and cynical of any and all that may try and help them. If we can stop and help them here, than perhaps we can show them the right path."

Hank listened, fingering the hair on his chin as if it were a beard. "But Charles, what if our right path is not their right path? Unfortunately, they will not have the same chances and opportunities that our students will have."

"I'm talking about the path of choices. If they continue as they have then the only choice they will have is to join Magneto, and I don't think that is what they want. Each of them have special gifts that can help them excel. I don't mean their mutations. Lance, for example, is an a especially bright boy. With he had motivation, he could become anything he wanted. Even a doctor. Each of the children, ours and theirs, all of the chance to become something great. Yet, because they are Mutants, their other unique talents will be overlooked. It is what all these children must face."

"And have already faced. But back to the Maximoff boy, do you think that Magneto had anything to do with this?"

"No," Xavier said slowly. "If that were the case, then why would Pietro run away? Unlike Wanda, Pietro trusts his father. No, I think it was something completely different."

"Do you think it, whatever it could be, will come looking for him?"

Xavier shook his head. "I don't know, Hank. I really don't know."

* * *

* * *

Skycat: Hello all! I'm sure you all have noticed the little introduction I have in each chapter, and I'm sure many of you have wondered what it is. It is an introspect piece about one of the characters in this story. Can you guess who? You've got seven guesses! The person to gets the most right wins a prize! And anyone who names them all gets a grand prize and my undying shock. Hope you enjoy!


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